


Cause, Effect, Reward

by allinadayswork



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Blow Jobs, Bottom Keith (Voltron), C-Section, Falling In Love, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Galra Biology, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Getting Together, Jealous Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Keith is Hormonal, Lance (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, M/M, Miscommunication, Mpreg, Omega Keith (Voltron), One Night Stands, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining Keith (Voltron), Rimming, Top Lance (Voltron), Unsafe Sex, author should be arrested for abusing italics, not graphic though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-08-01 03:28:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16276940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allinadayswork/pseuds/allinadayswork
Summary: Unfortunately for Keith, he doesn't know everything he probably should regarding his Galra heritage. He learns this a little too late, after a drunken one night stand in which he (stupidly) fails to use protection.





	1. Cause

 

_Galra mating habits are complicated at best, and impossible at worst. All purebred Galra are biologically male, thus requiring them to have secondary genders in order to procreate: Alpha, beta, and omega.  These secondary genders are easy to identify in purebreeds, but become increasingly difficult the more diluted the Galra blood becomes._

 

* * *

 

“Hey everybody, Keith’s back!”

Said-boy ignores the outburst, brushing off his flustered annoyance at Lance’s comment -- _bigger, cooler, grizzled_ … this was most definitely _not_ the time for Keith’s gay thoughts to resurface and bring him back the false hope he felt during their ‘forgotten’ bonding moment.

So instead of taking it to heart, Keith shakes the comment off and goes straight into debriefing; Krolia raises an eyebrow at him, which Keith pointedly ignores. He _really_ doesn’t have time for that. He risks a glance at Lance, whose face was unreadable for once, and quickly looks back at the rest of the team.

“Where did you come from?” asks Coran.

Keith shakes his head. “I promise, I’ll explain everything once we get to Lotor.” Didn’t they sense the urgency in his tone?  Clearly they still weren’t used to the whole concept of act now, ask questions later. “We’ve traveled through realities before. Can’t we fly in there and attack?”

Lance’s head snaps up, and he narrows his eyes at Keith as he walks toward him. Keith grits his teeth and stands his ground. “She said Allura is with him. We can’t risk hurting her!”

He clenches his fists, doing his best to disregard the tightness Lance’s words bring to his chest. He opens his mouth to speak, but is cut off by Hunk.

“ _Why_ are we even attacking?”

Clearly Shiro senses the irritation present on Keith’s face, because he speaks up before anyone else can say anything to make Keith blow up. “Look, Keith --” He frowns at something in Keith’s expression. “--Everyone, calm down. When they return, we’ll get this all sorted out.”

Shiro raises his eyebrows at Keith expectantly, who sighs and nods concedingly. Lance still looks pissed, and Keith is already starting to regret coming back here.

A hand comes down to rest on Keith’s shoulder, and he looks up to see Krolia smiling down at him sympathetically -- Keith fights the urge to roll his eyes. Spending two years with his mother on the back of that space whale has proved to be an… _enlightening_ experience for both of them; Krolia knows all about his complicated relationship with Lance, much to his chagrin.

“You okay?” she murmurs under her breath, only loud enough for the two of them. Keith sighs and allows himself one lingering gaze at Lance, whose eyebrows are knit together, his mouth pursed in thought.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, averting his eyes just as Lance looks up. “As okay as I can be.”

* * *

 

_Because their blood is diluted, those who are only part Galra experience much more subtle hints at their secondary genders. Most omega partial-breeds experience a phenomenon known as a “silent” heat -- akin to human female ovulation, silent heats are short periods of heightened fertility. Unlike regular Galra heats, however, silent heats have minimal outward symptoms and can be difficult to track._

 

* * *

 

The planet they’re currently on, taking a break from their road trip back to earth (which Keith is grateful for, especially after managing to lose the lions and almost killing his entire team in the dark abyss of deep space), vaguely reminds Keith of Texas. He tells Krolia this much, and she laughs.

“Because of the _lush_ scenery?” she teases.

Keith snorts. “No, because of the sweltering, dry heat.”

“Alright people!” Shiro exclaims, running a hand through his sweaty, snow-white hair. “We’ve got a few hours of downtime before the party the Grunonskians have kindly planned for us. We’ll rendezvous back here in four vargas.”

“Killing thrust!” Hunk exclaims, bursting into a fit of giggles. Shiro rolls his eyes and presses his lips together, obviously trying to contain a smile of his own.

“Alright, well,” Pidge says, pushes her glasses higher up the bridge of her nose, “let’s go Hunk, I want to show you some upgrades I’ve added to the Green Lion.” Hunk’s eyes positively light up at that.

“What?” Lance whines. “You can’t take Hunk! I was gonna drag him around and talk to some of the natives! You know, assimilate into their _culture_.”

“Um, I don’t think _assimilate_ is the right word,” Hunk tells him. “And besides, I wanna see Pidge’s upgrades. Just take Keith!”

Lance makes a dramatic noise of protest, but Pidge has already grabbed hold of Hunk and is tugging him toward the parked lions.

Lance sputters and waves his arms out wildly. “You can’t just leave me here with _Mullet_ for company!” He whips his head around, clearly searching for Shiro or Allura or even Coran and Romelle, but they all had managed to surreptitiously evade the site before he could persuade them into entertaining him.

Being the absolutely _horrible_ mother that she is, Krolia shoves Keith’s shoulder, making him go, “ _oof!”_ and earning herself a harsh glare.

“I’m going to take Kosmo for a walk,” she says coolly, eyeing the two boys and running a hand through Keith’s space wolf’s thick hair.

“That’s not his name!”

Krolia shrugs and turns, raising a hand in adieu. “You boys have fun!”

Unamused, Keith huffs and crosses his arms. He startles a bit when Lance’s hand unexpectedly claps down onto his shoulder.

“Still think Kosmo’s going to tell you his _real name_?”

Keith turns his glare on him. “Shut up.”

Lance smirks, squeezing his shoulder lightly. “Welp, looks like you’re stuck with me buddy. I know you’d rather be training or _whatever_ , ‘cause you’re boring like that --”

“I am not _boring_!”

“-- _but_ I saw this cluster of stands on our way here that kinda looked like a farmer’s market, and it would be way too depressing to go by myself. They might even have something other than food goo!”

Despite his entire being screaming at him to avoid Lance at all costs (this was _not_ the time to fall for him all over again, thank you very much), a small, _small_ part of him is admittedly enticed by the thought of food that he could actually chew. Biting his lip, Keith meets Lance’s eyes (a _mistake_ , a _big, fucking, mistake)_ , which are bright and blue and earnest, and he can’t help it: he melts.

“Fine,” he sighs, stomach tumbling when Lance grins at him. “Lead the way, sharpshooter.”

* * *

 

_Silent heats are typically marked by: an increase in pheromone production (to increase chances of finding a potential mate), heightened senses, sensitivity to temperature, an easily flushed complexion, and an increase in sex drive._

 

* * *

 

“Ooh, Keith, try this!” Lance holds out a strange lumpy thing skewered on a bright purple stick that vaguely resembles grilled barbecue. “What do you think it tastes like?”

Keith raises an eyebrow, but takes the proffered meat stick anyway.

“Hm…” He takes a bite and makes a face, wrinkling his nose. Lance watches him expectantly. “It has a sort of...fishy taste, but…” He chews a little more, and swallows with some effort; Lance’s eyes track the movement in his throat, making Keith’s cheeks grow uncomfortably warm. “...but with an aftertaste of...relish?”

“Yes!” Lance exclaims, startling Keith and pumping his fist in the air like a dork (and not at all helping with Keith’s blush). “My thoughts exactly! Heh, maybe you have decent taste after all, Mullet.”

Keith rolls his eyes and passes the meat stick back to Lance. “It’s not even close to a mullet anymore, Lance. Let it go.” He reaches into the paper bag sitting in Lance’s lap, rummaging around for the weird, bright orange drinks they bought two vendors down. He _really_ needs to wash the gross pickle taste out of his mouth.

Lance shrugs, swatting away his hand and retrieving the drink for Keith himself. “Once a mullet, always a mullet. You’re taking that dumb mullet to your _grave_ , Kogane.”

Keith glares (albeit without his usual menace), and twists the funky seal on the drink until it finally gives with a _pop!_ “Pretty sure that’s not how that works.”

He tips back the bottle, takes a large gulp of the orange liquid, and promptly spits it out all over the alien walking past him.

“ _What the fuck_?!”

Lance doubles over, guffawing loud enough for the entire court to hear him. His shoulders shake with mirth, and Keith feels his earlier blush come back full force. Wiping his mouth, he sheepishly apologizes to the alien who was victim to his unprecedented spittake, who then  snaps at him in his native tongue that _definitely_ can’t have been SFSP (Safe for Shiro’s Presence).

Still giggling at him like the little shit he is, Lance leans forward into Keith’s personal space, making him a conflicting combination of nervous and annoyed. “So… I’m guessing it _doesn’t_ taste like orange Gatorade?”

“ _No_ ,” Keith grits out. “It’s like, ninety percent sugar! I can feel my pancreas protesting.”

Lance snorts and reaches for the bottle, fingers brushing Keith’s accidentally. It lights his skin on fire and sends his stomach swooping. _Again._

Lance takes a sip warily, and Keith looks away because a stupid, childish part of him can’t even handle Lance’s lips being where his own just were.

“ _Dude_ .” Lance laughs at him again, and Keith scowls. Lance takes another drink, longer this time, a little bit of it sloshing out of the bottle and dripping down the corner of his mouth. Keith wants to lick it off. (Lance wipes it clean with his shirt sleeve instead.) “It tastes _fine_ , Keith. I don’t know what you’re talking about, because this shit is actually _delicious_ . And you say _I’m_ the dramatic one in this relationship?”

He ignores the flutter his traitorous heart gives at the word _relationship_. “It’s liquid diabetes.”

“It tastes _amazing_ , and I retract my earlier statement about you having decent taste."

 _Oh_ , if only Lance _knew_. “Sure, Lance,” he replies snidely. Then, because he can’t help himself -- because Lance is sitting there watching him with amusement sparkling in his ocean eyes and a shit-eating grin splitting his face in half -- he gives him the teeniest, tiniest smile. “Say whatever you gotta say to make yourself feel better.”

* * *

 

 _Consuming alcohol during heat -- silent ones especially, that aren’t accompanied by self-lubrication -- actually works to_ increase _the likelihood of conception during intercourse. This is because alcohol is a depressant, which relaxes the muscles and helps aid in allowing the partner’s sperm to quickly reach the O. F. A. (Optimal Fertilization_ _Area)._

 

* * *

 

Turns out, Grunonskians knew how to _party_.

The dining hall they’re in is decorated with multi-colored fairy lights pulsing unoffensively to the beat of the dance music the band up front is playing. Allura and Coran are dancing some traditional Altean dance, taking the center of the dancefloor as they twirl effortlessly. Pidge is obsessively inquiring about the equipment the Grunonskians use for their surround sound, and Hunk and Lance are preoccupied with the long buffet tables, filled with all sorts of fancy beverages and hor d’oeuvres. Keith is sitting down at a table, nursing another drink -- that most definitely contains some sort of alcohol equivalent -- and trying his best to keep up conversation he’s somehow found himself in.

Keith isn’t sure how many drinks he’s had so far, because (for a reason completely unknown to him) _so. many. alien. dudes._ have offered him. Repeatedly. It makes Keith wonder whether he accidentally sat under a flashing sign reading _Desperate Gay_ in rainbow fairy lights. One after another, Grunonskians keep invading Keith’s personal space and offering him a new complicated and exotic (and very _intoxicating_ ) beverage. After he was (admittedly) a little rude to the second guy who tried to chat him up, Shiro pulled him aside and asked him to _please, Keith, just go with it, okay? The Grunonskians have already been so hospitable to us, letting us rest here, throwing us this party…_

So. Keith shut his mouth and smiled tightly at the line of men he had managed to attract for some _godforsaken_ reason, and got progressively drunker and drunker as the night continued on.

The current Grunonskian who was talking to him was saying something Keith couldn’t really hear over the loud, upbeat music surrounding them. The Grunonskian has a strange yellow-green tint to his skin, with bright blue hair and strangely enticing rose-pink eyes. Grunonskia was a very colorful planet, a trait that undoubtedly extended to its inhabitants as well.

Keith tries to school his expression into something more interested, but his inebriated state somehow makes things much more difficult than usual. At the very least, he doesn’t flinch away from the Grunonskian when he leans forward and places a scaly, shimmery hand on his thigh.

What he _does_ flinch at, though, is the heavy arm that slings itself over his shoulders out of nowhere. He looks up, fully prepared to tell the person off despite Shiro’s earlier pleads, and comes face to face with a stormy eyed Lance instead.

Keith’s eyes widen in shock. “Lance?”

He gives Keith a tight smile, and pulls him closer rather roughly, making his current drink slosh out of his glass. “Sorry,” Lance tells the Grunonskian, not sounding sorry at all. “Keith’s needed elsewhere right now.”

Frowning at Lance and waving at the Grunonskian at the last minute in an attempt at politeness, Keith follows Lance to the dancefloor in confusion.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Away from _him_ ,” Lance tells him firmly, and Keith raises an eyebrow at his tone. “And everyone else.”

Too drunk to stop himself, Keith smirks. “Why?” he asks, tone light and teasing. “You jealous?”

“Of you? Of course not.” But Lance is stopped at the edge of the dancefloor, his arm having moved from his shoulder down to Keith’s waist. Keith’s shirt had ridden up during their short walk, and Lance’s fingers burn against his bare skin, making him swoon like some drunk damsel.

“Them, then?” Keith tilts his head, smirk still plastered on his face.

Lance tilts his head closer to Keith, and they’re so, so close. So close that Keith can practically taste the alcohol on Lance’s breath. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you Mullet?”

And _oh_ , somehow Keith isn’t so drunk that he doesn’t know what this is: this is flirting.

He shrugs. “Maybe,” he concedes. “Or maybe I was interested in that Grunonskian instead.”

And that’s what finally snaps Lance’s cool facade. He jerks his arm off of Keith’s waist (leaving him feeling cold and bare) and grips his wrist instead.

“You won’t be anymore,” Lance growls, dragging Keith toward the exit. Keith lets him. “Not when I’m through with you.”

* * *

 

_If precaution is not taken during a Galran heat, there is about a 92% chance of conception, even during the first time. The best way to prevent a pregnancy from happening during heat is to use some sort of Alpha birth control, the most common and effective type being a condom._

 

* * *

 

Keith is whining (so embarrassingly _needy_ ) into Lance’s mouth, which is way softer than it’s got any right to be.

The kiss is rough and unforgiving and everything Keith imagined it would be. Lance bites his bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth, and making Keith go utterly _weak_ in the knees. They fumble around blindly in the poorly lit hallway, finally breaking apart to catch their breath and unlock the door to Lance’s private quarters. As Lance gropes around in his pockets in search of his room key, Keith takes the opportunity to snake his arms around Lance’s middle, biting and sucking his neck and making him groan with need. He leans into Keith’s touch, and it makes him feel _empowered_.

As soon as Lance gets the door open, however, he turns and recaptures Keith’s lips in another bruising, mind-blowing kiss. Keith whimpers as Lance kicks shut the door and slams Keith’s back up against it. It makes his head spin, and he pulls away from Lance’s mouth with a gasp, allowing Lance to pepper his neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses. Keith tilts his head up to expose more of his neck to Lance, who bites at his collarbone and sneaks his hands up the sides of Keith’s shirt.

“Been wanting to do this all night,” Lance groans into his neck, and Keith feels hot all over. “All those guys kept hitting on you and I thought I was _losing my mind_.”

“Hhhhnnnnn,” responds Keith eloquently. Lance takes his mouth off Keith’s feverish skin long enough to rip his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere across the room.

“Want you so much,” mumbles Lance against Keith’s nipple, making him arch his back with another loud moan. Blushing hard, Keith prays to every deity his lust-addled mind can think of at the moment that the rest of the team are still enjoying the party and its conveniently loud music.

Needing some semblance of control ( _control_ … a small part of Keith was screaming at him to gain some _fucking self-control_ , but unfortunately -- or fortunately, he guesses -- Keith’s dick was taking charge tonight) Keith manages to push Lance off long enough to turn them around so their places are switched and Lance is the one backed against the door. Biting his lip at the lustful expression on Lance’s face, Keith smiles shyly and drops to his knees.

He hears Lance’s breath hitch as he unbuttons his pants with trembling fingers. He can see the outline of Lance’s straining erection through his briefs, a damp spot already forming from leaking precome. Keith’s mouth positively _waters_ at the sight.

Carefully, he peels off Lance’s underwear as if unwrapping a long awaited birthday present. Licking his lips, he grips the base and swallows him down almost all the way.

Fingers thread into his hair and tug as Lance moans above him, and Keith does his best not to choke around the thick, throbbing length as it hits the back of his throat. He sets a dirty, punishing pace, his own hard-on throbbing in his too-tight pants every time Lance lets out another one of his guttural groans, low and rough and completely sexy.

After a few minutes, the fingers in his hair tighten painfully, forcing Keith to pull off with an obscene _pop_ . He looks up at Lance through his lashes, and nearly _moans_ at the sight; he looks positively _wrecked_ \-- glistening with sweat, a deep flush creeps up his neck and floods his cheeks, thighs trembling as shaky fingers comb through his hair gently in apology for pulling to hard. His eyes are half-lidded, his pupils blown wide, and his mouth is hanging open as if mid-gasp. A wave of arousal washes over Keith, heat gathering even more demandingly between his legs at the sight. _I did that to him_ , he thinks in wonder.

Lance grabs hold of Keith’s chin, running his thumb gently over his swollen, spit-slicked lips. Dazedly, as if he doesn’t have full control over his voice quite yet, he blurts, “You--you’ve done this before.”

Keith nips at the tip of Lance’s thumb with a low hum. “And you haven’t.”

Still not completely coherent, Lance shakes his head.

Keith bites at Lance’s thumb one last time, then pushes himself up to kiss him (a kiss that is more tongue and teeth and spit than lips).

He moves to suck Lance’s earlobe into his mouth, earning himself a shiver and slight whimper that goes straight to his groin. “You can fuck me, if you want,” Keith whispers into his ear, relishing in the groan he receives from that.

Suddenly, Lance reaches down and grips Keith’s ass enthusiastically, before moving to the backs of his thighs. Lance _lifts_ and --almost effortlessly -- picks Keith up off the ground. Keith lets out a startled noise, wrapping his legs around Lance’s waist and moaning at the friction against his still-clothed erection and _fuck_ , he’s never experienced anything so _hot_.

Lance carries him all the way over to the bed, and crawls on top of him between his legs. Keith reaches up to pull Lance’s shirt off, then immediately kisses him again, wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling them chest to chest.

Lance’s hands blindly drag down Keith’s body to undo the button on his pants, and Keith helps him by wriggling his hips and reaching into the bedside drawer, groping for the bottle he desperately hopes is there. (It is.)

Once Lance gets his pants off, he takes the lube from Keith and pours some in his hand, warming it a little before taking Keith’s length and stroking slowly. Keith arches his back with a whine, thrusting his hips upward as Lance’s thumb swipes over his slit.

“ _Please_ ,” he begs, too far gone to care that this might be a bad idea, or that he’s sounding like some bitch in heat. His voice cracks as he buries his face in Lance’s soft, apple-scented hair, whispering, “Please please _please_.”

Soon, Lance is three fingers deep inside of Keith, scissoring and stretching and ruthlessly stroking his prostate until he’s sobbing for it, making high-pitched noises he didn’t even realize he was capable of making. Keith goes incoherent with the pleasure shooting up his spine, tears clouding his vision as he gets closer and closer to the edge.

“ _Lance_ ,” he whimpers, tugging at his wrist. “Come on, fuck me, I won’t last like this. Please…”

Lance nips at his lips and nods, his eyes barely a ring of blue around his dilated pupils. “Okay baby,” he murmurs against Keith’s lips. “Condom?”

Keith shakes his head, his voice breathless and breaking with need. “No, you don’t need one, I’m clean, please, I want to feel you…”

“Shhh, okay baby, I’ve got you.”

And then Keith’s eyes are rolling back into his head, because _wow_ , Lance is thick and hard and oh so deep as he thrusts into him carefully. He feels like he’s submerged in water, barely aware of Lance’s own gasping moans above him.

He works to open his eyes, meeting Lance’s which shine clearly with pleasure.

“ _Fuck me_ ,” Keith mumbles, and Lance _does_ , pulling out before thrusting back in, making them both moan as he buries his face into Keith’s neck, his hot breath making Keith’s already sensitive skin tingle.

He loses track of time, unable to focus on anything but the cresting pleasure Lance is giving him. He doesn’t even try and muffle the lewd noises he knows he’s making, nails dragging down Lance’s back as his cock drags just right against Keith’s prostate.

The white-hot pleasure coils in his abdomen, and Keith arches high, biting down into Lance’s shoulder. He feels Lance shudder above him, feels the cock pulsing inside him, feels the thick, hot come flood his insides, and -- without even having to touch himself -- Keith’s whole world goes white as he rides his orgasm with a gasp and a shout of Lance’s name.

Afterward, Lance pulls out and presses lazy kisses all over Keith, wherever he can put his lips on him, and it warms him from the inside out. He’s already falling asleep as Lance grabs a towel from the bathroom to clean them up, and Keith clings to him like a sleepy child when he returns to bed.

He’s not sure whether he’s dreaming or not when Lance softly presses his lips to his one last time, sounding tired -- in more ways than one -- when he murmurs something, so quiet it’s barely audible.

“ _’m sorry, Keith_.”

* * *

 

_Galra in heat, contrary to popular belief, are able to make rational, consensual decisions regarding sexual encounters. However, alcohol can definitely cause those decisions to be less rational and more likely to be driven by raw emotion, impulsive arousal, or impaired judgement. Additionally, as many Galra experience PHS (Post Heat Syndrome), it is very crucial for them to experience as little negative emotions as possible the day following their heat, especially if intercourse (and conception, even more so) took place during said heat, due to the consequential hormone imbalance._

 

* * *

 


	2. Effect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith thinks he's sick, goes to Pidge for help, and ends up with a shocking revelation.

 

_PHS, or Post Heat Syndrome, is caused by an acute hormone imbalance as a result of a Galra’s heat. PHS is typically marked by extreme mood swings, and can be worsened or prolonged if conception occurs during the heat._

 

* * *

 

 

Keith wakes up feeling like shit.

His head is pounding, _throbbing_ , like a horde of Galra sentries stampeded all over it. His mouth is dry and tastes like something died in it, and the bright sunlight filtering through the tiny windows burns his eyes.

He kicks off the the sheets strewn across him, then sits up abruptly when he realizes he’s not wearing any clothes; burying his head in his hands, all of the events of the prior night come rushing back to him in an antagonistic flood.

_Arriving to the planet with Texas weather._

_Going with Lance to explore the farmer’s market._

_Eating the meatstick Lance gave him._

_Drinking orange liquid diabetes._

_Lance laughing at him._

_The party. Rainbow lights. His line of men._

_Lance dragging him from the lime-skinned Grunonskian._

_Lance admitting to being jealous._

_Lance kissing him. Him kissing Lance back._

_Going back to Lance’s room. Sucking Lance’s dick._

_Lance’s taste. Lance’s warm skin against his. Lance on top of him, Lance inside_ _of him, Lance’s lips on every inch of his skin._

_Lance, Lance, Lance._

“Fuck,” Keith mumbles, unable to keep back the barrage of emotions that accompany the unwarranted memories. He looks up, eyes scanning the room for any sign of the boy he _lost his fucking virginity_ to, trying and failing to keep down the panic (and disappointment) that wells up inside him.

“Fuck!” Keith says again, eyes tearing up against his will. What’s wrong with him? “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_!”

He throws a pillow against the wall, looking down at his bare skin in disgust. _What the hell have I done?_

Sighing and rubbing his eyes furiously, Keith stands and limps to the bathroom. All of Lance’s stuff is gone -- his clothes, his skincare products, everything -- and the saddest part is, he isn’t even surprised. What did he expect? For Lance to spoon him in their sleep, then wake him up with a kiss and soft smile? For him to ask Keith, hey, let’s do this again sometime?

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know Lance at all, apparently.

Keith examines himself in the mirror. He looks about as shitty as he feels -- his eyes are bloodshot, and his skin is paler than usual, a stark contrast against his inky black hair, which is matted on one side of his head. His lips are red and swollen, and he shakily brings up fingertips to brush against them. Sensitive.

His eyes trail down his body, and he almost flinches at the several purple-red bruises blooming down the length of his neck. Sighing, Keith goes back into the main room to retrieve his clothes, enormously thankful for the high neck of his paladin suit.

After he finishes putting on his clothes, Keith takes his time brushing his teeth and splashing water over his face, slapping his cheeks in an attempt to put some color back in them. He dries his face off with a spare towel, then makes the bed meticulously, painstakingly smoothing every corner and straightening every crooked line.

Looking around the room once more, Keith groans. Well, he’s going to have to face the music sometime.

Bracing himself and ignoring the fluttering in his stomach, he gathers his things and goes out to meet the rest of the team, resisting the futile urge to look back.

* * *

 

 

_In partial-breed Galra, fertilization triggers a specific protein to begin synthesis. The sole purpose of this protein is to construct a temporary uterus to house the newly formed embryo. Because it takes time for the uterus to be constructed, the actual symptoms of pregnancy take longer to present in these partial-breeds._

 

* * *

 

 

Keith drags his feet as he makes his way to the lions, feeling more idiotic than ever. Despite still being quite away from where all the lions are parked, he can already see Lance talking animatedly to Allura, who’s red-faced as she giggles delicately into her palm. The sight sets his stomach turning like he drank a vodka-and-acid tonic.

As soon as he reaches the Black Lion, Pidge prances over to him and waggles her eyebrows suggestively.

“Sooooo,” she grins, elbowing his side. Keith rolls his eyes. “Where’d you and Lance scurry off to last night?”

He scowls at her. “Excuse me?”

Pidge opens her mouth again -- presumably to make some other smart-ass remark -- but is cut off by Lance himself (speak of the devil).

“Well, Pidgey, I dunno about Keith, but I got so smashed I can’t remember a single thing from the party last night!”

Keith looks up at Lance (despite knowing he’s going to immediately regret it), whose mouth is turned upward into an arrogant smirk. Keith probably wouldn’t even know he was lying if he didn’t know he drank a hell of a lot more than Lance, thanks to all his suitors -- or if Lance’s eyes didn’t look tired and dull. And when those weary blue eyes make contact with Keith’s, they turn pleading and apologetic.

Keith swallows. “Yeah,” he says quietly, clearing his throat and maintaining eye contact with Lance. “Yeah, same here.”

And the hollow ache he feels deep in his chest is almost -- _almost_ \-- worth it, because then Lance smiles at him; just a small, barely there smile that’s way more intimate than it has any right to be. Too intimate for Keith, too soon. His cheeks go warm, and he has to look away before his dumbass reduces into a puddle of his former self in front of a knowing Lance and an oblivious Pidge.

Someone coughs, and he looks up to see Shiro watching the interaction carefully. Almost imperceptibly, he quirks an eyebrow, but Keith shakes his head. He knows he’s going to have to answer to Shiro soon, and he’d rather get it over with sooner rather than later.

So, taking a deep breath, he steps more into the middle of the lions, and claps his hands together, getting everyone’s attention.

“Alright team!” he bellows, avoiding eye contact with Lance. “We’ve still got about a month’s worth of traveling before we can reach Earth. Let’s move out!”

Once safely inside Black with Shiro, Krolia, and Kosmo (the name is, _begrudgingly_ , beginning to grow on him), Keith takes off and leads the team out of Grunonskia’s atmosphere, critically in need of time alone to clear his head and stave off his still-raging headache.

“So…” Keith winces as Shiro’s voice cuts through the silence they’d managed to keep going for the past twenty minutes. His hands tighten their grip on Black’s controls.

“So, _what_ , Shiro?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“ _So_ ,” Shiro repeats knowingly, “what the hell is going on between you and Lance?”

“Lance?” Krolia turns to face Keith, an incredulous expression on her face. “The tall, handsome, kind of skinny one? I thought you didn’t like him.”

Keith shrugs, and nearly winces when Shiro giggles. Not laughs, not chuckles, fucking _giggles_.

“Oh he _likes_ him alright,” he tells Krolia, who only looks more confused.

“But every time Keith is around Lance, he looks like he’d rather be thrown to a pack of hungy yalmors!”

Shiro slaps Keith on the back, grinning like the complete asshole he is. “Aw, that’s just how Keith is around his crushes. He was like that with his old Garrison rival too, this kid named James Griffin.”

Keith’s face goes cherry-red as he shoves a laughing Shiro, hard. “I did _not_ have a crush on that _dick_!”

“Language,” Shiro chastises, not looking any less amused. “And you so _did_ . Even before you punched him in the face, you’d always bring him up at any chance you could -- _oh, Griffin did this, Griffin did that! I want to punch his face in, and then kiss it better!_ ”

“First of all,” huffs Keith, unable to keep down the bright flush creeping up his neck, “I never even said anything _remotely_ like that. And second of all, I don’t sound like that!”

“You punched your crush in the face?” asks Krolia, looking midly impressed.

“He definitely deserved it,” Keith grumbles in response. “And he isn’t my crush!”

Shiro lights up, getting that devious look on his face that convinces Keith he’s the devil’s incarnate. “Right -- that’s Lance.”

Keith groans. “Shiro --”

“--speaking _of_ , where did you two go last night?”

Crossing his arms, Keith looks away from both of them and huffs. “It’s none of your business.”

“Of course it’s my business!” Shiro argues, and Krolia nods along. “I’m supposed to be the nosy older brother here. Don’t you think I want to know who my little Keith is dating?”

Keith ignores him.

“Dating?” inquires Krolia curiously. “So it’s not just a crush? You two are in a relationship?”

“Oh, they’re definitely in a relationship. Isn’t this exciting? Keith and Lance are finally together and in _looo_ \--”

“ _WE’RE NOT DATING!_ ” Keith finally snaps, yelling at the both of them, the sound of it echoing throughout the suddenly silent lion. Kosmo stirs, but doesn’t wake from his nap.

The silence is heavy, deafening, and Keith continues on, his knuckles turning white from clenching the controls so hard as he rapidly blinks hot tears out of his eyes.

“Lance and I are not dating,” he repeats, his voice deadly calm. “We’re not dating, we’re not together, or in a relationship, and we are most definitely not _in love_ .” His vision blurs, and he can no longer control the tears that slowly begin to leak down his flushed face. “Lance doesn’t even _like_ me that way. At all. All he likes about me is the fact that he can _get drunk_ and _fuck me_ and know that I’ll just go along with his lies about _not remembering a fucking thing_!”

His voice breaks at the end of tirade, and he wipes at his face harshly. God, he’s pathetic.

“Keith…” Shiro says, gently, after a moment. Keith hates how guilty Shiro sounds now, hates that he’s crying, hates himself for being so weak and vulnerable, hates _Lance_.

He hates how a small, selfish part of him even hates _Allura_ , for being everything Lance wants and everything Keith isn’t.

“Keith,” repeats Shiro, and Keith refuses to meet his eyes. He just fucking _can’t_. “I’m -- I’m so sorry, I didn’t know…”

Keith pushes his palms into his eyes sharply. “What did you think Lance and I went to do last night?”

“I don’t know,” Shiro sighs, sounding exhausted. “I guess sometimes I forget you’re all grown up… I didn’t assume anything…”

Unable to help the small smile that creeps onto his face, Keith sniffs and nudges Shiro playfully. “Oh come on,” he teases. “You sound like an old man.”

“Yeah,” Krolia chimes in with a warm grin. “Aren’t I supposed to be the mom here?”

Shiro rolls his eyes, but Keith can tell he’s trying to fight his own smile off his face. “Alright, alright, I get it. I’m basically Space Grandpa.”

Keith snorts at that, and Shiro grins at him, his dark grey eyes crinkling at the edges. The sight makes Keith soften, and he puts Black on autopilot, pushing away from the controls and looking down at his lap.

“I don’t know what to do,” he says quietly, fiddling his thumbs idly. “This is more than forgetting us bonding after he got injured on Arus. At least that situation was semi-believable. This is...this is just blatant denial.”

To his surprise, it’s Krolia who reaches out and places a placating hand on his shoulder. “You know,” she says gently. “I may not know much about your relationship with Lance, but I do know that you deserve better than someone who is too ashamed to admit that there’s something there between you guys.”

Keith nods, trying not to reveal just how shitty Krolia’s words make him feel about himself. “I know, I know…”

“Krolia’s right,” Shiro interjects. “Lance may be a bit...confused right now, but that doesn’t give him the right to treat you this way. Just... don’t keep pushing him away, okay? Just because he doesn’t know exactly how he feels about you doesn’t mean he doesn’t _care_.”

“He’s the one pushing _me_ away!”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Of course I am!” Keith is getting upset again, and -- bless her heart -- Krolia moves the hand still resting on his shoulder to Shiro’s.

“There’s nothing Keith can do right now anyway,” she murmurs reasonably. Then -- “Say, do you want to see the trick I managed to teach Kosmo yesterday?”

Keith smiles, being more grateful than ever for his mother’s thoughtfulness, and even more so for the change in subject.

* * *

 

 

_Symptoms of pregnancy in male Galra (pure or partial bred): nausea with or without vomiting, weight gain, fatigue, weakness, increased appetite, strange food cravings, moodiness, hot flashes, and missed heat._

 

* * *

 

 

The first thing Keith notices is off is his appetite.

At first, he assumes that it’s because of the meds the hospital gave him for his injuries he had managed to acquire during their last battle. But even after he’s discharged and fully functioning like a normal, uninjured person and working back at the Garrison, the acute nausea he’s been getting in the mornings remains. And despite the fact that he always had a decent sized appetite, he finds himself eating twice, or even three times as much as he usually would.

Of course, the extra calories he’s been practically inhaling for the past week leads him to put on a little extra something _else_ too. So, naturally, he goes and hits the training room, even more than he used to do back at the Castle.

“Going to the training deck already?” calls Hunk, who’s lounging around the Garrion’s break room, fiddling with some weird device he was talking to Pidge about earlier.

“Training _room_ , actually,” Keith corrects.

“Dude, you don’t understand the concept of a break, do you?”

“Of course I do,” Keith replies, scowling. “I just… I’ve been a little out of shape lately.”

Hunk snorts. “ _You_ , out of shape? That’s almost as likely as _Shiro_ being out of shape!”

“Whatever,” he mumbles, exiting the break room and stalking irritatedly down the hall.

Once he reaches the training room, he ties his hair back into a small ponytail and reaches for the weights. He’s only thirty reps in when he begins to tire, and once he hits seventy he feels like he’s dying, muscles cramping as he gasps for air. He stops at ninety-seven, feeling literally unable to continue any further without his arms falling off.

He peels off his shirt, which is soaked through with sweat, throwing it aside and groaning at the dull ache his muscles gave. Ugh, what’s going on with him?

“What’s going on with you?”

The voice makes Keith jump, and he looks up to see one James Griffin, smirking confidently and leaning against the training room door. He’s wearing a black cut-off shirt that stretches tightly across his chest and exposes his sides, and basketball shorts that hug him in all the right ways. His hair looks kind of wind-swept, and his bangs hang in his face attractively. He looks _good_. Time, apparently, has been nothing but kind to this cocky boy.

Keith shrugs, and slings his arm across his chest, pulling and stretching with a slight wince as his shoulder pops. James comes in, practically sauntering over to the bench, and sitting close enough that Keith can smell his cologne. (A little earthy, a little spicy, and nothing at all like Lance; Keith relishes in it.)

“I would have thought you could last longer than that,” James quips snarkily reaching over to pick up one of Keith’s weights.

“ _Please_ ,” Keith bites back, matching James’s smirk. James eyes him up and down, and Keith can’t express how thankful he is that he’s already sweaty and red-faced. “We all know I can last longer than _you_ any time.”

James quirks an eyebrow at that. “Wanna bet?”

And _hot damn_ , Keith wants to. Every part of his being is screaming at him to accept the challenge, to makes Griffin eat his words, to wipe that haughty, smug smile off his stupidly handsome face. But it’s Keith who feels like the stupid one, because all he can think right now is _he’s not Lance_.

So, instead, he stands, brushing his pants off and slinging his damp shirt over his shoulder. “You wish,” he tells Griffin, smoothly moving past him and slinking out the door.

His ears might be deceiving him, but he swears he can hear James reply with a slightly disappointed, “ _I do_.”

Keith shakes it off, and goes to take a shower.

He doesn’t have time for boys right now. He never did. Lance just happens to be what he always has been -- the exception.

Of course, right when he thinks that, Lance McFreaking McClain’s voice wafts from around the corner. Keith pauses in his step.

“You know, Princess, I was thinking -- maybe I could introduce you to my-- my family?”

Keith feels like the floor is pulled out from under him. He shouldn’t be here. He should just cover his ears and run, save his heart from breaking all over again. Or better yet, maybe he should go back to the training room and take Griffin up on his offer after all.

But he doesn’t do any of that. He stays rooted in place, leaning heavily against the wall, frozen.

“Oh Lance, I would _love_ that!” Allura replies, and it makes Keith feel sick.

But then -- oh _quiznack_ . Suddenly, Keith _is_ sick. Actually, physically sick. A wave of unprecedented heat sweeps over it, and he goes lightheaded, his extremeties tingling slightly.

And then he’s clamping a firm hand over his mouth as his breakfast threatens to come up the wrong way. Not caring whether or not Allura or Lance sees him anymore, Keith runs across the hall to his room so fast he practically flies, slamming the door shut behind him as he rushes into the bathroom to retch as he pukes his guts out.

After he’s done, he wipes his mouth shakily and heavily leans against the toilet bowl. He knows he’s clearly, definitely sick. But after spending weeks on end in the Garrison’s uncomfortable hospital room, he refuses to go back there to find out what’s wrong with him.

He needs to talk to Pidge.

* * *

 

 

_Even though the symptoms are delayed, it takes about the same amount of time (two weeks) as human females for a pregnant Galra male to accurately test positive for pregnancy._

 

* * *

 

 

He knocks on Pidge’s door softly.

Keith learned that this is a necessity when going to see Pidge while she’s locked in her room late into the evening. The last time he needed to talk to her, he knocked a little too hard, impatiently, and was met with a Pidge that was _severely_ sleep deprived, her hair wild and eyes a bit feral looking.

Thankfully, though, this time Pidge only looks slightly disheveled when she opens the door, and Keith can tell she could use the break from whatever latest project she’s currently tinkering with.

“Keith?” Pidge asks, clearly shocked to see him at this hour. She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her little nose. “Hey. What’s up?”

Keith fidgets slightly, a little awkward. “Uh, I think I might be sick?”

Pidge gives him a questioning look. “So… you came to me instead of the hospital?”

“Yeah,” he replies with a nod. “I trust you. It’s not life-threatening or anything and, honestly, I’d rather not go back there just yet.”

“Ah,” she murmurs. She steps aside and gives him room to enter. “Come in then.”

He does, and he looks around the room curiously -- it’s an organized sort of chaos; the sort of chaos where Keith can tell that, even though all of the different parts and gadgets look like a jumbled mess to him, Pidge definitely knows exactly where each specific thing is. She shuts the door with a low _thud_ behind her, pulling up a rolling chair and straddling it backward.

“So,” she says, grabbing a spare notebook off her desk and plucking off the pencil that was perched casually on her right ear, “What seems to be the problem?”

Keith finds space on Pidge’s bed and sits as he tells her of all the peculiar things he’s been experiencing in the past week -- the nausea, the unusual appetite, the weakness… Pidge nods emphatically as he continues on, humming under her breath and occasionally scribbling something down into her notes.

“Hm…” She scratches her head with the end of her pencil. “I think I’m gonna take some blood… it could be an infection.” She pushes her chair toward one of her drawers, rummaging through it. “I know I have a phlebotomy kit somewhere in here.”

“Uh...why do you have a spare phlebotomy kit lying around in a drawer, Pidge?”

“Aha!” Pidge exclaims, then smiles at Keith smugly. “I think the real question is, what on earth would you do if Pidge _didn’t_ have a spare phlebotomy kit lying around in a drawer, Keith?”

Keith rolls his eyes with a smile. “Go to the hospital?” he suggests.

“Alright,” Pidge shrugs, going put the kit back into the drawer. “Suit yourself.”

“No no no no no, I was joking!” cries Keith. “I’m sorry, please don’t make me go to the hospital -- come on, poke me, Pidge!”

“Alright alright, you heathen, give me your arm.”

After Pidge collects two vials of Keith’s blood, she labels each of them and places them carefully on a spare test tube rack.

“All done!” she says cheerfully with a crack of her knuckles. “You’re good to go -- I’ll get you the results sometime tomorrow. For now just take a couple Tylenols and rest easy, okay?”

Nodding, Keith stands and smiles at Pidge graciously. “Thanks, Pidge.”

“Anytime, dude.”

* * *

 

 

_The protein that helps create and develop the uterus within a pregnant partial-breed male Galra releases the same hormone (hCG) into the blood as human females produce while pregnant, which allows blood tests to confirm the Galra’s pregnancy._

 

* * *

 

 

Later on that night, when Keith is on the verge of falling asleep, there’s a knock on his door so soft he almost misses it.

Throwing off his blanket with an annoyed huff, he goes to open the door, suspecting Shiro and fully ready to tell him to fuck off, _language be damned_ , but is instead nearly thrown off guard completely by who it _actually_ is.

“...Lance?”

Lance is standing in Keith’s doorway, shirt and hair rumpled, his pearly teeth worrying his bottom lip. The bottom lip that Keith had sucked into his mouth a two and a half months ago.

Not that he was keeping track, of course.

“Hey,” mumbles Lance, his tired blue eyes sweeping over Keith. Against his will, his body reacts, and heat travels up his neck to fill his cheeks.

“Hi.” God, his voice sounds small. “Uh, what’s up?”

Lance looks into Keith’s eyes, his gaze intense, and Keith has to work to not swallow visibly. “Are you okay?”

Now, Keith isn’t an idiot -- he knows (more than Lance probably knows, honestly) that Lance isn’t going to acknowledge their shared night over two months prior. But the question is still loaded, and the implication of that night hangs over the two boys, tense and definitely present in the air.

“I guess,” Keith says carefully. “I’ve been better.”

“Are you still throwing up?”

Keith remembers eavesdropping on Lance’s conversation with Allura in the hall, and the way he jetted to his bathroom to prevent from vomiting all over himself. He winces at the memory.

“Not really,” he tells Lance, leaning his hip against the doorframe, his body encumbered with fatigue. “Pidge is testing for infection, but I think it might be passing.”

That last part is a lie, of course, and Keith can admit he no longer knows what to say or do around Lance. Maybe he never did to begin with.

“Okay, well…” Lance darts his eyes around, before looking down at his feet and kicking at a nonexistent piece of dust. “You heard us, didn’t you?”

Maybe Lance doesn’t know what to do around Keith now, either.

“Excuse me?”

“Allura. And me. Our conversation. You were listening, right?”

Keith crosses his arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Lance narrows his eyes. He knows him a lot better than Keith originally gave him credit for.

“I asked her to meet my family,” he says bluntly, watching Keith’s face carefully to see his reaction. Keith struggles a bit, but manages to reign in the emotions those words set raging inside him.

“Good for you,” he tells Lance, hoping and praying to God that he doesn’t sound as strained as he feels. “Things must be getting pretty serious.”

He can’t make eye contact anymore, but he _knows_ Lance is still watching him. He knows all of it and the thought just kills him.

“Yeah. They are.”

Keith bites the inside of his cheek. “I’m glad,” he responds, lying through his teeth.

When Lance doesn’t respond, Keith finally finds the courage to look back up into those deep, deep ocean eyes. But right now, the ocean within them isn’t peaceful; it’s stormy and unclear and almost unsettling, in a way. Everything about it should make Keith harden, make him reinforce the walls he knew were dangerously close to crumbling completely.

But instead, he softens.

“Good night, Lance,” he sighs, sounding defeated. Before Lance can say it back (or _anything_ back), he lets the door shut with a muted _thud_.

He doesn’t care. _I don’t_ _care_ , he tells himself. Even when he tosses restlessly in his bed, feeling more sick than ever before. Even when he dreams of stolen kisses and steely blue eyes.

Even when he wakes up from those dreams, chest aching and tears streaming.

_I don’t care I don’t care I don’t care._

* * *

 

 

_Partial-breed Galra are just as likely to safely carry a fetus to full term as any pure-breed Galra, although statistics have shown miscarriage is far less likely when the pregnant Galra has his partner support him throughout the pregnancy._

 

* * *

 

 

Keith is early to breakfast the next day, picking up his mediocre cafeteria food and sitting at his usual table alone.

Or so he thought.

“Kogane.” The cocky voice cuts through the silence, and Keith looks up at James with an unimpressed look.

“Griffin,” he returns with a nod.

“So,” James continues, not at all fazed by Keith’s almost bored persona. “Still sticking the runny oatmeal they serve over here, huh?”

Keith’s lips quirk up a bit. “Still obsessing over my every move, Griffin?”

James scoffs and leans over to steal a piece of under ripe fruit from Keith’s tray. “Don’t flatter yourself, Kogane.”

“I don’t. You do.”

“Please,” snorts Griffin. “That’s not even close to me flattering you. Me flattering you would be me saying, ‘ _oh, Keith, your hair looks sexy pushed back like that_.’”

A laugh bubbles up from Keith’s chest, and he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back away from his face.

“Like this?” He smirks, biting his lip and suppressing a grin at the way James’s eyes track the movement.

Griffin licks his lips. “Mm,” he hums. “Yeah. Like that.”

_Smack!_

Keith and James both jump in surprise at the sudden noise of a tray dropping on the table just to the left of them. Keith’s eyes go as wide as sand dollars when he sees Lance, who’s glaring at the two of them like they just did him dirty somehow.

“Good morning to you too, McClain,” mutters Griffin, and Lance sits down with an irritated sound, blatantly refusing to acknowledge James.

“Why are you up so early?” he asks Keith accusingly, as if he has done a great crime just by arriving to breakfast before Lance did.

Vaguely, Keith wonders how much of the conversation Lance caught between him and James. (A lot, he assumes, judging from the wicked stink-eye he’s giving him. Lance was never a big fan of James Griffin to begin with.)

Keith shrugs, taking a bite of his oatmeal. “I got hungry.”

Lance raises an eyebrow, and Keith can tell he’s about to ask another ridiculous question when a green blur catches the corner of his eye.

Before he can even comprehend what it might be, Pidge is in front of him, frazzled and panting hard and clutching a plain yellow envelope tightly in her fist.

“Uh…”

“I...need...to talk...to...you…” Pidge manages to get out, distress clear on her face. It makes Keith’s insides do a backflip. “In...private.”

Glancing between Lance and James, who both look incredibly shocked and mildly curious, Keith looks back to Pidge with wide eyes. “Okay.”

So Pidge practically drags Keith all the way back to her room, her fingers gripping his wrist so hard he’s pretty sure she’s leaving bruises.

As soon as they get inside her room, Pidge slams her door and makes a point of locking it, not at all helping with Keith’s racing thoughts and exponentially increasing anxiety. She shoves the yellow, now slightly crumpled envelope into his chest, and shoves him a little.

“Ow-- Pidge!”

Pidge still looks like she’s seen a ghost, and it’s really starting to freak Keith out. Shakily smoothing out the envelope, simultaneously eager and too afraid to open it. He clears his throat and tries again. “...Pidge?”

Seeming to snap out of her daze, she finally looks at Keith. _Really_ looks at him. Her eyes sweep over him, not like she’s checking him out, but more like she’s looking for something specific. _Searching_ . Her eyes linger on his abdomen, and he feels it (his stomach) fall to the floor when all of a sudden her expression is turns from concerned to full of _fear_.

“You might want to sit down for this, Keith.”

“ _Pidge_ ,” he groans in exasperation. “You’re scaring the shit out of me. What is it? Is it an infection? Oh fuck, is it cancer? Am I dying?”

Pidge shakes her head, her big brown eyes full of alarm as they meet Keith’s.

“Keith…” she whispers, sounding partly amazed and partly horrified. “Keith, you’re _pregnant_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI GUYS
> 
> Okay, so I think the next chapter is going to end up being split into two parts, because it's going to be a long one. And I know this fic is pretty heavy on the angst so far, but I promise there will be lots of fluff to come! Next update should be in a week :)
> 
> (PS) Kudos to anyone who can spot the hidden Mean Girls musical reference!! >^<


	3. Reward part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coping for some, revelations for others. Sometimes even the best of intentions are flawed.

 

_Denial (noun): the action of declaring something to be untrue_

 

* * *

 

Keith’s first reaction is to laugh. So he does. He laughs and laughs and laughs, stomach cramping and eyes tearing from exertion.

Pidge just watches him like he’s lost his mind. “Uh, Keith?” she asks incredulously. “Are you okay? This wasn’t exactly how I thought you’d react to this information…”

He wipes the tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. “Alright Pidge,” he says, breathing slightly hard from the laughter. “You can tell me what’s actually wrong with me now.”

She stares at him. “Keith. Open the envelope.”

“...Fine.”

Curiously, Keith slides his forefinger under the opening of the yellow envelope, pulling out a piece of paper folded into thirds. He opens the paper up calmly, eyes scanning over the test results. He freezes when he gets to a line that is bolded and sloppily highlighted in bright yellow.

 _hCG ( >25 mIU/ml)_______________8,746 mIU/ml ( _ **PREGNANT** )

His eyes flicker up to the top of the paper in disbelief. Sure enough, there’s his name also in bold lettering: **KOGANE, KEITH**.

Suddenly, Keith feels like he’s suffocating. He shakes his head back and forth, a sense of panic rapidly rising in his chest.

“That can’t be mine,” he insists, the pitch of his voice climbing in tandem to his heart rate. “I-- I’m a _guy_ . I can’t _get_ pregnant! You…” He whips his head up to look at Pidge, whose face is sympathetic. _Pitying_. “You must have mixed up the results.”

Pidge shakes her head. “I didn’t. Keith, your blood is the only blood I tested.”

“Maybe it’s a Galra thing?” he squeaks. “Maybe my hCG levels are normal for someone with Galra blood?”

“Keith,” Pidge says gently. “I was up all night researching. Pregnant Galra produce the same exact hormone as pregnant humans do. And all Galra -- whether they’re female _or_ male -- have the ability to carry a child.”

“No,” Keith says, still shaking his head. “It’s impossible…”

“No it’s not,” replies Pidge, and then goes to take a book off her desk. It’s Altean. “The Alteans have an archive of thousands of different alien species and their reproductive habits. I found everything I could about the Galra… it all makes sense.”

“How does _any_ of this make sense?!” snaps Keith, crumpling the paper in his fist. “How the _fuck_ am I supposed to believe that it makes sense for _me,_ a fucking _male_ , to be fucking pregnant?!”

Pidge sighs, hugging the large tome close to her chest. “I know it’s hard to understand--”

“Because it’s fucking _impossible_!”

“--but you can be as little as one sixteenth Galra and still be fully capable of carrying a male pregnancy successfully to full term.”

Keith shakes his head and sits down on the floor, burying his head in his hands. “What the fuck,” he says softly.

Going over to sit beside him, Pidge leans into him and sighs. “I know, I know. It’s hard to believe, and even harder to accept. But Keith, the reality is, you’re with _child_. And you need to figure out what you’re going to do now that you know that.”

“I don’t know,” he groans. Then, he looks up at Pidge. “I’m not killing it, though.”

Pidge frowns at him. “I wouldn’t say abortion is _killing_.”

“It is,” Keith says with finality, hugging his knees to his chest. “I’m healthy, I wasn’t raped… there’s no good reason for me to abort. So I’m keeping it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” Keith declares. Even though he’s not really sure about anything else -- about what he’s going do from here on out, he knows what he’s not going to do. He looks down at his abdomen, feeling overwhelmed.

He’s _pregnant_ . With Lance’s child. And this baby -- this baby has done nothing wrong. This baby is a piece of him and Lance. And even though he knows he can’t go to Lance, begging for him to be with him because now he’s pregnant, Keith can’t help the warmth that spreads in his chest at the thought of a tiny person being the result of the two of them, together. Even if it didn’t mean anything for Lance. Because it meant _everything_ for Keith, and now he’s pregnant.

 _Pregnant_.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Pidge wraps her arms around him, pulling him close and rubbing his back soothingly. And suddenly, Keith no longer cares about holding anything back; he’s pregnant, and confused, and overwhelmed, and if anyone deserves to have a fucking mental breakdown, it’s him.

So he turns and buries his face in Pidge’s shoulder, and lets himself just _cry_. Loud, ugly sobs that shake his shoulders and soak through Pidge’s shirt. If it bothers her, she doesn’t say anything. She just sits there, lets him get it all out of his system, and strokes his hair until he’s all cried out.

“Sorry,” he sniffs as he pulls away, gesturing toward the mess of snot and tears that was now Pidge’s sleeves. He wipes his face with the back of his arm, and Pidge passes him a tissue silently.

“Thanks.”

Pidge stays quiet for another moment. Then: “...Keith?”

“Yeah?”

She hesitates, biting her lip. “Look… I can appreciate the reasons why you’re keeping this baby, but…” She lowers her voice and looks around the room, as if she didn’t already lock the door earlier. “If you’re serious about keeping it, I think you need to tell him.”

Keith stands. “No.”

Pidge looks up at him, eyes wide. “What do you mean, _no_?”

“I _mean_ no, I am not telling him.” His voice is steely as he narrows his eyes at her.

“You can’t just --”

“I _can_ , and I _will_ ,” he cuts her off. “And you won’t tell him either. According to _him_ , nothing ever happened between us. He has nothing to do with this.”

“He has _everything_ to do with this!” exclaims Pidge, sounding exasperated. “You don’t think Lance deserves to know you’re pregnant with his child?”

“ _My_ child,” Keith corrects, picking up his test results from off the floor and moving to the door. “He doesn’t need to know anything. _Okay_?”

Pidge sighs and holds her hands up in surrender. “Fine, I won’t say anything. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Whatever,” Keith says dismissively, opening the door to leave. But then he pauses, looking back at Pidge, who’s still sitting cross-legged on her floor, picking at her shoelace. He glances at her damp sleeve and softens at the sight. “And Pidge?”

She looks up, exhaustion written all over her face. “Yeah?’

“Thank you.”

She smiles at him, just a little, but it’s a smile full of warmth. “You’re welcome, Keith.”

 

* * *

 

 

_When pregnant, many Galra become extremely protective over their unborn child, which is why it is generally unheard of (and extremely taboo) for a pregnancy to be terminated in Galra culture._

 

* * *

 “Mom, what the _fuck_?”

Krolia jumps slightly as Keith kicks open the door to her room and slams it shut behind him.

“ _Excuse_ me?” she asks in disbelief, crossing her arms over her chest and raising both eyebrows so high they disappear behind her bangs.

Keith glares at her, mirroring her as he crosses his arms too. “Were you aware that male Galra can get pregnant?”

“Um, yes? Keith, that’s common knowledge --” She cuts herself off, looking down at his stomach in shock. “Wait. Fuck. Keith, are you--?”

Keith looks away, one of his hands falling to cup his lower belly. Krolia watches the movement with wide eyes. “Oh no,” she whispers, standing up and walking closer to Keith.

“Yeah,” Keith agrees. “Oh no is right.” Then, he glowers at her. “Why didn’t you _tell_ me?”

Krolia’s eyes snap back up to his, eyes narrowed. “I didn’t think I needed to!” she exclaims defensively.

“But you _knew_ I slept with Lance! A little warning would have been nice!”

She scoffs at him. “Well excuse me for assuming you two weren’t dumb enough to do it without using protection!”

“Of _course_ we were dumb enough to do it without protection! We were _drunk_!”

“And whose fault is that?!”

Keith paces impatiently back and forth across the room. He nearly screams when Kosmo pops into the room, clearly sensing Keith’s distress. He sighs and kneels down to pet him, trying his best to calm down and stop from freaking out.

Krolia sighs and kneels down next to Keith. “Are you okay?”

Keith nods. “Physically? Yeah.”

“How’d you find out?”

“Pidge,” is all he says, and Krolia nods in understanding.

“Ah.”

There’s a moment of silence between them, and Keith tries to calm his nerves by scratching behind Kosmo’s ear. It does little to help.

“Keith,” says Krolia, and the tone in her voice makes him look up at her. She doesn’t look mad, like he expected her to; instead, she looks calm, calculating. “You’re keeping the baby, right?”

“Of course I am,” he says immediately. “Why does everyone think I’m not?”

Krolia raises an eyebrow. “Maybe because we’re still in an intergalactic war?”

“And you were in the same intergalactic war when you decided to keep me,” points out Keith.

Krolia smiles. “Yeah,” she murmurs. “I was.”

Keith doesn’t say anthing else, so Krolia continues.

“So, does anyone else know?” she asks carefully, and Keith nearly groans aloud, already knowing where she’s going with this.

Still, he can’t lie to his _mother_. He shakes his head. “Nope. Just you and Pidge.”

“And I’m guessing you’re not going to be telling your Lance any time soon?”

“He’s not _my_ anyth--”

“ _Keith_ ,” Krolia interrupts, looking completely done with his shit.

Keith sighs. “I know I should,” he concedes.

“But you’re not going to,” guesses Krolia, and Keith picks at his pant leg, saying nothing, expecting Krolia to try to lecture him the way Pidge wanted to. But she’s his mother, and he’s not going to yell at her. Not anymore. He braces himself, not at all anticipating what comes next.

She stands, and brushes herself off. “Listen, Keith. I’m not going to sit here and tell you exactly what you should do, because the truth is, you’re the only person who can decide that. Just… be careful, okay?”

Keith looks up at her, strangely emotional at his mother’s words. Quietly, he nods. “Okay,” he promises her.

She beams at him, then. “Okay,” she repeats warmly. “Okay, wow. _Wow_. I’m going to be a grandmother.”

And Keith matches her grin, feeling lighter than ever (or at least, lighter than he’s been in the past few days).

“Yeah,” he says, equally amazed. “And I’m going to be a _dad_.”

 

* * *

 

 

_Some Galra have reported that, during pregnancy, time seems to pass by very quickly for them due to the pleasant hormones that strengthen the bond between parent and fetus, which actually makes pregnancy enjoyable for the father or mother._

 

* * *

 The next couple weeks pass slowly. _Very_ slowly.

Two days after Pidge first breaks the Good News, she sends him a cryptic note during lunch that, under normal circumstances, would make him quite alarmed.

_My room. Tonight. After dinner._

He raises an eyebrow at her, where she’s sitting across the cafeteria watching him. She smiles and waves, a little _too_ casual, and he fights not to roll his eyes as he shoves the note in his pocket.

“What was that about?” asks Griffin, who’s taken to sitting next to him whenever their meal times happen to cross. Lance is sitting across from them, frowning and looking back, his neck craning as he glances so rapidly between the two of them that it hurts Keith to watch.

“Yeah,” he says, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “What _was_ that about?”

Keith shrugs. “Hell if I know,” he says, ignoring the nervous flutter his stomach gives.

“You two have been spending an awful lot of time together,” Lance continues. “Are you two up to something?”

Griffin snorts. “Even if they were, you think Keith would tell you just because you asked?”

“Maybe!” exclaims Lance defensively, turning his glare on James. “He definitely wouldn’t tell _you_ , now would he?”

Keith stands. “I wouldn’t tell either of you anything,” he informs them in irritation. “Call me when you two are done being children.”

 

****

 

He regrets leaving early as soon as he runs into Shiro in the hall.

“Have you told Lance yet?”

Apparently, Krolia didn’t like being one of the only people who knew of Keith’s...condition. But because she didn’t want to upset Keith by outright telling Shiro he was knocked up, she -- like the manipulative _cur_ she is -- stuck to only telling him that Keith had something very important he needed talk to him about.

So, soon after telling Krolia, Keith ended up recounting his current situation to Shiro as well. Surprisingly, he wasn’t actually disappointed in Keith for having unprotected sex ( _“God knows what Adam and I used to get up to” “SHIRO, OH MY GOD” “What?”_ ); he _was_ , however, disappointed in Keith’s refusal to tell Lance anything. He believes that Lance deserves to know, despite the fact that Lance is adamant about pretending that _that night_ never occurred to begin with.

“Of course I haven’t,” Keith says, presently, and Shiro frowns deeply.

“You know, Keith, how would you feel if Lance was the one hiding a pregnancy from you?”

This makes Keith laugh, humorlessly. “Oh, I don’t know, Shiro. All things considered, how would I know? It’s not like I’m pregnant or anything!”

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I?” he asks. “I mean, maybe you’re right. Maybe I _should_ put myself in Lance’s position -- oh man, good thing I never slept with Keith or anything! I’m just your average happy-go-lucky straight guy in love with an alien princess!”

“Keith,” Shiro says exasperatedly. “Stop avoiding the issue. Yes, Lance messed up. Yes, Lance is being a little silly right now. But you not telling him you’re pregnant with his child is not helping anyone in this situation.”

Keith huffs and crosses his arms (childly, he admits, but he’s too annoyed to care). “I’m not telling him.”

Shiro says his next words in his Leader voice, almost making Keith piss his pants. “You will,” he commands, a sense of finality silencing any other protests Keith might have. “Before the end of the week, you’re going to tell Lance the truth. Or else _I_ will.”

 _Fuck_. “...Fine.”

 

****

 

After finally agreeing ( _against_ his will) to Shiro’s outrageous demands, Keith speed-walks his way over to the Paladins’ quarters, fully intending on skipping dinner completely. He makes it into his room safely, without encountering anyone else who might try to convince him to tell Lance they should have used protection, and flops down backward onto his bed.

He stares at the ceiling blankly, spreading out across his bedspread, his mind racing at a million miles a minute. Almost unconsciously, Keith’s hands go to his abdomen, resting gently on his still-flat stomach. He glances down, stupidly amazed at how it could possibly be true that he has a person _growing inside him_. He runs his fingers idly across his belly, still not completely convinced that there’s another heart beating in there somewhere.

A lazy, dopey smile creeps onto his face, and Keith presses his fingers a little more firmly. He feels warm from head to toe.

Suddenly, it doesn’t matter that Lance doesn’t love him back. It doesn’t matter that they won’t ever be together the way Keith wants them to be. None of that heartache matters; what matters is that Keith’s -- and Lance’s -- _baby_ is inside him, able to bud and grow and _thrive_. Keith can’t feel a trace of the baby from the outside, but he’s already fiercely protective over it.

He stares at the ceiling, overwhelmed in an oddly pleasant way. He’s never felt this kind of love before, and it sets his nerves alight with a strange joy that he knows he can definitely get used to.

_My baby…_

 

****

 

Keith doesn’t realize he’s fallen asleep until he’s woken abruptly by a sharp knock on his door. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes as he pushes himself off the bed heavily and swiftly crosses the now-darkened room to open it for his visitor.

“Oh, hey Pidge.”

Glaring at him, Pidge leans forward with a hiss. “I told you to meet me in _my_ room after dinner, not make me have to go all the way over to yours!”

“I fell asleep!” Keith says defensively. “And besides, our rooms are literally right across the hall from each other!”

“And?” she sasses back. Keith runs a hand through his sleep-rumpled hair with a sigh.

“Sorry,” he tells her, only a little bit sheepish. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, I swear.”

Pidge glares at him for a couple more seconds, before dropping the expression with a reluctant sigh. “You’re lucky you’re pregnant -- I can’t stay mad at you anymore.”

“Thank you,” he replies, smiling easily, and Pidge tugs on his sleeve.

“Alright, let’s go, sleepyhead.” She leads Keith out into the corridor.

“Where are we going?” Keith asks as they amble through the darkened halls. He glances around at the rooms around them, before his eyes go wide with realization. “Wait, are we going to the hospital wing?”

“Astute observation, Sherlock,” Pidge replies, not looking back.

Keith halts in his stride, forcing her to turn to face him. She looks exasperated.

“I don’t want anyone else to know, Pidge.”

The exasperation somehow increases. “No one is going to know anything, Keith.” He gives her a skeptical look, and she throws her hands up in surrender. “ _Calm down_ , okay? I’m not going to tell anyone. You have my word -- doctor-patient confidentiality and all that.”

“Okay,” he says, still a little dubious. She rolls her eyes.

“Look, I just need to borrow some equipment, alright? Come on.”

So, he continues to follow her as she promptly turns and keeps walking, holding his tongue. The last thing he wanted to deal with is a pissed-off Pidge, especially this late at night.

The hospital wing is mostly abandoned when they arrive; the lights are on, though, and Keith wrinkles his nose at the sharp, sterile stench that permeates its halls.

Pidge, using her magical pro hacker skills, bypasses the keypad locking one of the dull white doors toward the back of the wing.

“Alrighty,” she says, clapping her hands together as the lights flicker on inside the small exam room. “Go sit on the exam table and lift your shirt up.”

Keith raises an eyebrow, but does as he’s told anyway. He watches, amused, as Pidge sits down onto the rolling stool and slides across the linoleum floor to him, a grin splitting her face in half. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” she tells him, and he laughs at her.

“You’re ridiculous,” he says fondly, and she sticks her tongue out at him in response.

Pidge opens a drawer and pulls out a nondescript tube, scooting closer and yanking Keith’s shirt up higher. For some wild reason, he blushes and resists the urge to pull the material back down.

“ _FUCK_!” he exclaims when Pidge pours what feels like ice onto his bare stomach. No longer shy, Keith hisses at the sensation. “Maybe warn a guy next time!”

Pidge, the evil gremlin she is, just smirks at him as she takes a grey wand-looking thing and uses it to spread the icy gel over his lower belly. She moves the wand around, staring up at a screen that reflects brightly in her glasses.

“Look,” she says after a moment, scooting back a bit and turning the screen to face Keith. He squints at the grainy image, not quite sure what he’s supposed to be looking at.

“Is that…?”

“Your baby?” suggests Pidge with a warm smile. “Yep. See its head?”

Keith cranes his neck to get a closer look, tilting his head as he examines the screen before him. A warm feeling fills his stomach when he can finally make out the tiny features on the fetus ( _his baby_ ) before him.

He bites his lip. “It’s so… It’s so _small_.”

Pidge nods. “Mhm… you’re about nine weeks, so it’s about the size of a cherry right now.”

“Is it a boy or a girl?” Keith inquires curiously.

“Well, you can’t usually tell until it’s between sixteen and twenty weeks. So you still have some time to go.”

“Oh.”

“Although,” she continues, pushing up her glasses with her free hand, “chances are it’s going to be a boy. Statistically, that’s what makes the most sense. But you never know.”

Keith stares at the monitor, lips curling up at the corners as he watches the image move across the screen.

“My baby boy…”

 

* * *

 

 

_In Galra, Altean, and a few other species, pregnant organisms will emit a specific scent to let others know that they are expecting before they actually begin to show._

 

* * *

 

 

Keith is very nearly caught the very next morning. Or, so he thinks.

They’re having a meeting, and all of team Voltron is sitting around the long conference table. Krolia, Shiro, Acxa, and Romelle are there too, and everyone is chatting idly as they wait for the rest of the Garrison staff so they can discuss what to do with rogue Altean they fought unknowingly.

Allura and Lance are sitting across from Keith, already putting him in a sour mood. Krolia has a comforting hand on Keith’s leg, trying her best to calm him down. ( _“Stress isn’t good for the baby, Keith_ . _”_ )

“What’s that smell?” Allura asks, out of the blue. Lance, whose arm is slung across the back of her chair, sniffs his armpits indiscreetly and shrugs.

“What smell, Princess?” he asks, looking confused.

Allura wrinkles her nose and sniffs. “It smells like...like…” Her eyes widen suddenly, and she whips her head to Krolia, giving her a piercing stare. “Krolia!” she exclaims. “Is that you?”

Krolia jumps slightly and sniffs around too. “Excuse me?”

“That-- that smell…”

Lance shakes his head and laughs at Allura, making Keith’s blood boil. “You must be smelling things, Allura.”

“But I’m not…” insists Allura. “Krolia, that _has_ to be you. It smells like… like…”

Krolia stands unexpectedly, tugging Keith up with her and nearly giving him a heart attack.

“Y-you’re right!” she sputters uncharacteristically. “Sorry Princess, that’s probably me, hahaha… Better go and… check that out… Come on Keith!”

“What?” Keith asks, confused. Krolia glares at him.

Before he can say anything else, though, Allura, stands abruptly too. “No need!” she says, a bit too cheerfully. “I can assist you in any… accomodations you might need, Krolia. Keith can stay here--”

“Nope, no, no no no no no no, Keith can help me,” Krolia interrupts, forcefully yanking at Keith’s shirt and dragging him out of the room. “You stay here and wait, it’s all good, don’t you worry Princess Allura…”

They’re already out of the conference room and down the hall, but Krolia continues babbling loud enough for Allura to hear. Keith digs his heels into the ground and narrows his eyes at Krolia when she turns to him incredulously.

“Keith, we have to _go_.”

“Not until you tell me what the hell all that was,” he tells her defiantly. She shakes her head at him and glares back.

“Listen,” she hisses under her breath, “you absolutely _reek_ of pregnancy right now, Keith. You may not be able to smell it, but the Princess and I can. So shut up and be grateful I didn’t out you right then and there!”

“Reek...of _pregnancy_ ? What does that even _mean_?”

Krolia sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. “Certain species make a certain scent during the early stages of pregnancy, before they start showing, so others know to watch out for them. Humans don’t do it, but Galra and Alteans do, which is why only a few of us can smell it on you.”

Keith thinks his eyes almost bug out of his head. “So Allura--”

“--knows someone is pregnant, and assumed it was me. So you _owe_ me, Keith.”

Keith shakes his head. “But…”

“No buts. Now you need to get your act together and tell Lance--”

“No!” He looks up at her, already beginning to panic. “No, I am not telling Lance. What am I supposed to say to him, anyway? ‘Hey, Lance, remember how we slept together that one night on Grunonskia?’”

“Keith--”

“--and also, remember how we didn’t use protection? Well, turns out Galra men can get pregnant too, and--”

“-- _Keith_ \--”

“-- _apparently_ we should have used a condom after all because guess what! You managed to _knock me up_!”

“-- _KEITH!!_ ”

“ _What_?” he snaps, finally done with his heated rant. He looks up, not caring that he probably has the bitchiest look on his face, but then meets a pair of startled blue eyes which decidedly did not belong to his mother.

 _Lance_.

He looks like someone tore the world out from under him. Keith feels like that someone is him.

Keith goes pale, his stomach dropping all the way to the floor. Krolia is biting her lip, unsure how to proceed. “Um, should I leave you two to talk?”

Neither of them respond, too busy staring at each other in complete and utter shock. Slowly, Krolia backs away, leaving the two of them alone in the otherwise empty corridor.

“...uh,” Keith is the first to speak, his voice cracking. He clears his throat. “Surprise?”

Lance’s speechless mouth is hanging open, and a ridiculous part of Keith wants to reach out and push his chin up to close it.

“...Lance?”

Eyebrow twitching, Lance’s jaw snaps back into place.

“You’re _pregnant_?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE!!!
> 
> My lord! Chapter three was so long that I had to cut it in about half -- this chapter may seem short, but the next one is an absolute monstrosity so hopefully that makes up for if I'm late again! I've just been so busy this past week, so I figured half a chapter is better than nothing? Haha...ha...
> 
> Anyway, I just want to say thanks so much for reading, and for those of you who have been following this story, sorry for the slight wait!! (also, sorry for any mistakes I might have made. I didn't want to wait any longer to post this, so it's not been completely edited. oops.)
> 
> Next chapter: Two idiots finally have a real conversation :)))


	4. Reward part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "KEITH'S IN LABOR OH MY GOD EVERYONE I HAVE TO GO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE IS ABOUT TO GIVE BIRTH TO OUR CHILD!!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...*crawls out from under the rock I've been hiding under and throws chapter sheepishly* uhhhh.......here you go? fluff, as promised :3

 

_“So the whole war is because we can’t talk to each other.” -Orson Scott Card_

 

* * *

 

 

“Aha...ha...surprise…?” is what Keith says. Again.

Lance’s eyes are completely bugged out, and his eyebrow is still twitching in a way that almost makes Keith concerned for his health.

Almost an entire minute of incredulous staring later, Lance _finally_ speaks: “What the _fuck_.”

Keith winces. “I know--”

“You _know_ ?” Lance all but screeches. “Well how peachy! That’s so lovely, that you _know_ \--” He cuts himself off, running an agitated hand through his hair and making it stand on end. And the sight is making Keith curse himself, because wow, Lance is kind of hot when he’s pissed. _Not the time, gay thoughts_.

And now he’s pacing back and forth, for once in his life struggling to come up with what to say next. Keith chews on his lips in a nervous anticipation as he waits.

With a heavy sigh, Lance stops in his tracks, eyes squeezed closed tightly and fists clenched at his sides. “How long have you known?” he asks at last.

“A month or so,” replies Keith honestly, gut churning heavily with guilt. He doesn’t want to lie to Lance; not anymore, at least.

“Keith,” he grits out, “you should have told me.”

Keith shrinks into himself slightly. “I know. I _know_. And I wanted to, but--”

“You should have _told_ me,” repeats Lance. Keith frowns, beginning to get a bit annoyed at Lance. Doesn’t he realize Keith’s had a lot on his plate lately?

“Well I’m not sorry!” is what comes flying, unbidden, out of Keith’s mouth. He knows he’s being unreasonable, but he’s getting angrier and angrier and he can’t seem to stop himself.  “Do you know how stressful this whole thing has been for me, Lance?”

“Which is exactly why you should have told me!”

“Why?” spits Keith. “So you could congratulate me? We never even slept together, remember? This isn’t _your_ baby, according to you!”

“Of course it’s my baby!” Lance growls, moving forward toward Keith, who steps back and nearly runs into the wall. “It’s _both_ of ours! Unless…” His eyes go wide again, and he pushes even further into Keith’s space. “Oh my quiznak, _is_ it mine?”

Keith glares at him and resists the urge to shove him away. “I don’t know Lance, is it?”

“You tell me,” Lance snaps, eyebrows knit together. “You’re the one who’s been all buddy-buddy with Griffin lately!”

“Griffin?” asks Keith in disbelief. “James has nothing to do with this! He’s a friend, you numbskull!”

“Well _James_ doesn’t seem to think that, does he?”

Keith narrows his eyes into slits as he stands up straighter, making Lance ease back a some. “I could say the same to you about Allura!”

Lance raises his arms out in a _sue me_ type gesture. “That’s different.”

“Is not!”

“Is too!” Lance huffs at Keith. “I didn’t get Allura pregnant!”

The words hit Keith hard, and he has to look away for a moment, breathing heavy and eyes stinging. “You’re an asshole,” he tells Lance. “Fuck you.”

“Yeah?” Lance yells. “Fuck you too!”

Keith blinks rapidly, not willing to cry in front of Lance. “You already did! Oh wait, just kidding -- _you were too drunk to remember anything anyway_!!”

“Jesus fucking--” He rubs his face exasperatedly. He looks back to Keith, examining his face and visibly deflating. “You should have told me.”

“ _Why_ ?” Keith asks again, challengingly. “Look, Lance, it’s _fine_ . You already made everything perfectly, painfully clear to me. It’s fine. This isn’t your responsibility. You’re _free_. Go be with Allura. You don’t owe me anything, so stop acting like this--” He gestures to his abdomen. “--concerns you!”

Lance is quiet for a moment. Keith can feel his gaze on him, but he refuses to meet his eyes. Because he’s weak. Because Lance’s eyes are the most breathtaking, most beautiful, most _heartbreaking_ shade of blue. Because he knows if he does, he’s going to burst into tears.

“Bullshit.” Keith’s blood goes cold at Lance’s tone -- low, menacing, dangerous, and gaining momentum with every word. “You’re full of shit, you know that, Keith? You stand there, acting all high and mighty, playing the victim card, so stubborn that you don’t even understand why you should have told me this information earlier. You think I wanted to find out this way? You think I wanted other people to know before I did? That’s _my_ baby, Keith! It might be inside you, but it’s just as much mine as it is yours! You think I don’t want to be able to be there for my child? That I don’t want to be there for _you_ ? Because fuck, Keith, I _absolutely_ fucking want that! But no! You didn’t even give me a chance. And all because-- oh shit, oh my God fuck Keith shit pleasedon’tcryohmyGod.”

Keith wipes his eyes furiously with his sleeve, face flushed as he sniffs wetly. “I’m not crying.”

And all of a sudden, there are warm, strong arms wrapped around him, the distinct, sweet smell of _Lance_ completely encompassing him. So, naturally, Keith cries harder, even harder than he cried with Pidge, because Lance is _right_ \-- Keith is a terrible person for not telling the _father of his child_ sooner that he’s pregnant. He’s terrible and stupid and sad and Lance is warm and sturdy and holding him oh so tightly and it’s all too much for Keith’s hormone-addled brain to handle at once.

“I’m sorry,” gasps Keith, who clutches at Lance’s sleeves and buries his tear-and-snot stained face into his neck, not willing to let him go again so soon. “Fuck, Lance, I’m so sorry, I know I’ve been dumb-- I’m sorry--”

“Shhh,” Lance whispers soothingly into Keith’s hair. “Don’t say that. You’re not dumb, okay? Shhhhh, baby, it’s going to be okay…”

Keith whimpers. “Don’t call me that,” he rasps, but doesn’t pull away. Lance tenses up for a moment, then relaxes with a sigh.

“Okay, Keith…” he murmurs. “It’s going to be okay…”

And despite everything, standing there in Lance’s embrace, Keith finally starts to believe it.

 

* * *

 

_Revelation (noun): a surprising and previously unknown fact, especially one that is made known in a dramatic way_

 

* * *

 

 

They don’t go back to the conference room.

Instead, Keith leads them back to his room. He doesn’t dare ask Lance to go to his, because he knows the sight will bring him back to the memories he is trying very hard to forget. (Knows that Lance always brings his own bed sheets, no matter what room or suite he stays in. Knows that the last time he saw those sheets, he was pressed against them, Lance nowhere in sight. Knows that the thought alone is still too much.)

He sighs, glancing at Lance’s profile from the corners of his eyes. They were in for a _long_ discussion.

Once they get inside Keith’s room, Lance closes the door and Keith sits on his bed, immediately looking down at his lap. Lance stays standing, hovering over him and waiting patiently -- eerily patient -- for Keith to speak first.

Keith clears his throat. “Uh… so. I guess we have a lot to talk about, huh?”

“You think?”

Biting his lip, Keith examines the nonexistent dirt beneath his fingernails. “Yeah.”

Silence again. Keith stiffens when he feels the bed dip next to him, fighting to relax and calm his racing heart. Quiznak -- it’s just Lance.

“I’m sorry.”

Keith looks up surprise. Lance makes a face. “Don’t look at me like that,” he says, scrunching up his nose ( _adorably_ , Keith’s traitor brain supplies). “I am entirely capable of apologizing to people.”

“I knew that,” replies Keith. “I just didn’t know you were capable of apologizing to _me_.”

It sounds like a joke (and it is, for the most part -- Lance is just too easy to tease) but there’s an undertone of truth to it that both boys can recognize. Lance sighs.

“Well, I am,” he says tiredly. “Keith, I’m sorry. For everything.”

“Everything?” Keith can’t help but ask. Lance chuckles, a small smile playing on his lips.

“I suppose not _everything_ ,” Lance amends. “If I’m being honest, I’m not really sorry for getting you pregnant. But I am sorry for not being there for you when you found out.”

Keith shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry for that. I wouldn’t have wanted you there anyway.”

“Okay,” agrees Lance. “Then I’ll be sorry for everything else.”

“I’m sorry too,” Keith says, while he still has the courage to. “I should have told you earlier. I guess I was just… afraid of how you might’ve reacted.”

“You had every right to keep it a secret,” Lance replies earnestly. “I was wrong earlier too. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

They’re both quiet for a moment. Keith is still looking everywhere but Lance’s face, even though his whole body aches for him to reach out and hold Lance in his arms. It’s an exhausting struggle, a pointless urge that Keith is tired of constantly fighting.

“I’ve always wanted a family of my own,” Lance finally says, quietly. “I’ve always dreamt of finding the perfect girl to marry who would carry my children and ride off into the sunset with me.”

The words sting, Keith has to admit. But he pinches himself, trying his best to reign all of his emotions in; he’s already made himself far too vulnerable in front of Lance today. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” And then he reaches out, carefully picking Keith’s hand from off his lap and fiddling with his fingers. Keith’s heart jolts in his chest. “That doesn’t change for me, even though you’re not a girl.”

“What about Allura?” blurts Keith, his mouth speaking on its own accord without his brain’s consent. He feels like kicking himself; it’s none of his business, after all. But it’s out there now, so Keith braces himself for Lance’s answer.

Lance’s fingers tighten around his. “What about her?”

Keith lifts his eyes, but Lance isn’t looking at him. He debates pulling his hand away, debates forcing Lance to meet his eyes, but decides it isn’t worth it. He slumps a little, defeated. “You two are together.”

“Is that a question?” queries Lance, fingers tracing the lines in Keith’s palm. It makes him shiver. “Allura and I aren’t together. Never were.”

“Then why…” Keith trails off, unable to concentrate with Lance touching him the way he is. He’s started making imaginary lines up Keith’s wrist, writing words Keith can’t discern in what seems like cursive.

Lance shrugs. “I’m a touchy-feely kind of guy.”

The words register themselves into Keith’s brain, and in a fit of indignation that he would later blame on hormones, Keith rips his hand out of Lance’s grasp.

He glares at Lance, stubbornly refusing to feel guilty at the hurt look on his face. “Is that what this?” he demands. “All of this, because you’re a _touchy-feely kind of guy_?”

“Of course not!” cries Lance quickly. He sits up straighter and looks into Keith’s eyes pleadingly. “Keith, can you just -- please believe me, okay? Allura… well, you know I had feelings for her. But now I have feelings for _you._ I mean, not just now -- I have for awhile. And I’m sorry I was a dick to you, but I was confused and scared at the thought of loving you. I’ve never… I’ve never felt this way about anyone, if I’m being honest.

“But… the weird thing is, I’m not confused or scared anymore. I mean, actually, scratch that -- I’m _terrified_ right now. But you and this baby… you guys are worth it. Okay? Totally and completely worth it.”

“You love me?” asks Keith, feeling exceptionally warm. Lance groans, burying his face in his hands and laughing.

“That’s really all you got out of that?” he snorts. Keith reaches forward and tangles his fingers through Lance’s hair, smiling so widely his cheeks begin to hurt.

“You’re a nut,” says Keith fondly. He pauses, his smile fading just a tad. “You’re sure you want this?”

Lance looks up at him, his eyes shining so brightly that Keith almost has to look away. Almost. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure about anything before in my life.”

He takes Keith’s hand back in his, this time taking the opportunity to thread their fingers together with a light squeeze.

Keith looks down at their entangled hands, his voice almost shy. “I’m not Allura.”

“Good,” Lance murmurs in response, bringing Keith’s hand up to his lips and kissing the back of it. “Because Allura isn’t the person I’m in love with.”

“Why not?”

He sighs, squeezing Keith’s hand again. “Because she’s not right for me, Keith. I realize that now. I didn’t at first, because I was so adamant about her being the one, even when I started having feelings for you. I mean, Allura’s a _princess_ , for quiznak’s sake. She has a duty to the _entire_ universe, and I’m just a boy from Cuba. I wanted her, but I didn’t _need_ her. I never did. But I have always, _always_ , needed you. It was hard to comes to terms with at first, but now that I have, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And that’s all it takes for Keith to tear up again, giving Lance a tender, watery smile. “Oh Lance…”

Said boy leans in, blue eyes clear and bright and looking at Keith like he’s the only other person in the universe. “Can I kiss you?”

Not quite trusting his voice, Keith answers in the only way he can -- he takes him by the neck, fingertips brushing the ends of soft, brown hair as _he_ kisses _Lance_.

 

* * *

 

  _love (noun): an intense feeling of deep affection_

 

* * *

 

 

“Wait, _what_?”

Keith knows he should be sheepish right now, but he really can’t bring himself to. Ever since his talk with Lance earlier that day, he hasn’t been able to keep the smile off his face for any long period of time. Lance himself is in a similar state of drunken happiness, his fingers entangled loosely with Keith’s.

“Okay, okay, let me get this straight,” continues Hunk, whose eyes look just about ready to pop out of his head. Coran is standing next to him thoughtfully, more pensive than shocked. Allura looks...well, she looks _overjoyed_ , like someone gave her the exact Christmas present she’s been asking for for years a month early. It’s almost unsettling, for Keith, how big Allura’s smile is. “So you two had sex, and because Keith is part Galra he got _pregnant_?”

Lance nods and squeezes Keith’s hand. “Yep. Pretty much.”

“This is amazing!” exclaims Allura cutely, clapping her hands together in front of her. “I thought _Krolia_ was pregnant, but _Keith_ \-- I’ve never gotten to see a male pregnancy in real life!”

“Oh, I’ve seen plenty,” interjects Coran smugly. “In fact, back when King Alfor and Zarkon were still on good terms, I helped assist in Daibazaal’s royal paternity wing. It was absolutely fascinating!”

Pidge, standing on Keith’s other side between him and Shiro, looks awestruck. “Really? What was it like?”

“Well, you see Number Five, it was very much like…” Pidge and Coran launch into a whole discussion about paternity vs. maternity wards on planet Daibazaal, which Keith knows he should probably be paying attention to but chooses to tune out instead.

“So, Allura…” he starts, hesitantly. Even though Allura looks far from heartbroken, he can’t help but feel a little bit guilty -- it’s not like he let himself be overtly obvious whenever Lance hurt him by being with her. He can’t imagine how she might be feeling, if she really does -- or even did -- have feelings for him…

But she doesn’t even let him continue. Holding up a hand and cutting Keith off effectively, she says, “I know what you’re going to say, Keith, but you don’t have to. I appreciate you considering how I might be feeling through all this, but as Lance might’ve told you, we’re just friends and nothing more. Even if the circumstances were allowing for us to be together, there’s no way we could make it work. And he cares about you, Keith.”

She glances at Lance, a little sheepish, as if to seek permission to continue. Keith doesn’t see Lance’s face, but it doesn’t matter because Allura keeps talking.

“And I know it might be hard to believe right now, but Lance’s true feelings for me have been gone for a long while now. Even if he didn’t realize it, or want to admit it outright. I mean, you should have heard him rant to me about you and that Griffin boy--”

“Okaythat’senoughnowAllura!” Lance interrupts with a nervous laugh. Keith snorts and elbows him playfully.

Allura just chuckles warmheartedly. “What I’m trying to say is, there isn’t anything between Lance and me, because he’s in l-- he has feelings for _you_. Which, of course, I’m sure he’s already shared with you.”

Keith nods, his heart jumping at Allura’s near-slip up. “Thank you, Allura.”

Allura smiles warmly at him, eyes sparkling. “Of course. And I believe a congratulations is in order! I am so happy for both of you.”

“Thanks Princess,” Lance says, letting go of Keith’s hand and wrapping his arm around his waist. “We appreciate it.”

“I guess I should congratulate you too,” says Hunk, speaking for the first time in a few minutes. “So, congratulations! Wait, does that make Keith the mom?”

Keith rolls his eyes. “I’m still a guy, Hunk. So Lance and I are both the dad. Dads.”

“Ohh… but then, wouldn’t the baby have to call you two different names? I mean you and Lance obviously can’t _both_ be called ‘Dad’ because that would just be confusing… oh! Lance, is the baby gonna call you ‘Papa’?”

“Papa Lance,” Keith tests out loud. Lance looks at him, a soft smile on his face.

“I like that,” he tells Keith. “And you’d be Daddy Mullet.”

Keith shoves Lance, who shakes with laughter as he pulls Keith back in and peppers his face with kisses.

Pidge makes a gagging noise, her conversation with Coran finished. “Oh my God, you two are really going to be this gross from now, aren’t you?”

“Nope!” proclaims Lance. He plants a big, wet, smacking kiss on Keith’s unsuspecting lips, pulling shriek of protest from him. “We’re going to be even grosser than this from now on!”

“Please don’t,” Shiro speaks finally, looking and sounding tired. “Please keep the PDA to a bare minimum. For our sanity, I beg you.”

“Hm…” Lance pretends to think, and Keith stifles laughter. Then, Lance squishes both of Keith’s apple red cheeks, puckering his lips and kissing Keith senseless. Keith bursts out giggling -- _giggling!_ \-- and they ignore the simultaneous groans that erupt around them.

Ignore them, because Keith knows it’s all just a show. He knows that his teammates are just as happy for the two of them as he and Lance are for themselves.  Knows that every single one of them would put up with the worst PDA to ever grace the galaxy if it meant Keith and Lance were always this giddy with happiness. Because the truth is, the happiness, the _love_ , is contagious. All-consuming. All-encompassing. Unconditional and raw and _real_.

And the thought almost makes Keith tear up, because he’s never really got what it truly meant to have a family. But now…

...now he thinks he’s finally starting to understand.

 

* * *

 

_“Hey moon, please forget to fall down… Hey moon, don’t you go down.” -Panic! at the Disco, Northern Downpour_

 

* * *

 

 

They don’t talk about what they (officially) are to each other until late, _late_ into the night.

It’s pitch black outside, the only light streaming in through Keith’s tiny window from the pale moon shining high in the otherwise dark sky. Keith can’t see any stars from where he’s lying on his bed -- body pressed close to Lance, their legs tangled together lazily under the light covers -- but it doesn’t matter because Lance’s eyes are sparkling as they look at Keith, who’s so close he can practically map out entire galaxies in those crystal orbs.

“Hi,” Keith breathes into the quiet between them. Lance cracks a smile in return.

“Hey,” he mumbles back. Time feels suspended, in the moment, and Keith watches Lance searchingly.

“Did you mean it?” he asks. Lance tips his head very slightly, questioningly. “I mean, when you said you… that you love me.”

Lance licks his lips. “Why wouldn’t I mean it?”

Keith tries not to shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe you were just rambling and it accidentally slipped out.”

“I was most definitely rambling and it most definitely accidentally slipped out,” affirms Lance, who continues before Keith’s stomach can sink. “But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t true. It just wasn’t the way I wanted you to find out.”

“Oh…” Keith feels all tingly, for some reason.

“Yeah,” Lance replies, sounding a little amused. He leans forward in the already minimal space between the two of them. “Oh.”

And the quiet is back, but it isn’t an uncomfortable one -- quite the opposite, actually. It’s the kind of quiet that makes the world seem like it’s stopped turning; the kind of quiet that is almost addicting in the way it makes all your troubles feel far away, out of reach. Keith almost even feels guilty for interrupting it. Again.

“Tell me now,” he whispers. And bless him, Lance doesn’t need Keith to elaborate. He already knows.

“I love you,” he tells Keith, making warmth erupt in his chest. “Keith, I am so utterly and completely in love with you. Mullet and all.”

And Keith is so overwhelmed with joy that can’t even bring himself to be bothered by the mullet comment.

“Good,” he says to Lance, his voice shaking only slightly. “Because I love you too.”

Lance stills, his eyes going a little wide. “Wait, seriously?”

“Of course seriously,” replies Keith. “Why would I joke about it?”

Lance smiles, biting his bottom lip as if to contain it. “Say it again.”

“Lance,” Keith murmurs. “I love you. So, so much.”

And then Lance is on him in a heartbeat, kissing him senseless as he holds him in a tight embrace. “God, Keith. I love you so so much too.”

Keith laughs breathlessly, kissing Lance back sloppily. Then Lance shifts a little, pulling Keith even closer somehow, deepening the kiss and pulling a low noise of approval from Keith. Keith runs his fingers up Lance’s chest and holds either side of his neck, thumbs moving back and forth lightly over warm skin.

“So,” says Keith, nipping at Lance’s bottom lip. “What do you think we should we name our baby?”

Lance grins. “Our baby,” he says, beaming. “Well, if it’s a boy… what about Lance Jr.?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Hey, you asked!”

Keith chuckles, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “I think I’d rather name our child Yorak.”

Lance gasps dramatically, clutching a hand over his heart. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Maybe,” Keith says slyly, then laughs, unable to keep a straight face. “Okay, you’re right. But seriously -- what should his name be?”

“Well,” Lance says thoughtfully. “How about… wait, no… what was your dad’s name?”

“Kyle,” says Keith. “Kai, for short. Kai Kogane.”

“How about Kai _McClain_ -Kogane, then?”

Keith smiles. “I like that,” he says. “And for a girl?”

“I was thinking Evelyn, after my mother. Evie for short.”

“Evelyn McClain-Kogane,” Keith tries out. The name sounds so good to say out loud. _Feels_ so good. “It’s so pretty.”

“Beautiful,” Lance beams at him. “Just like my Mama.”

And Keith leans in, kissing Lance softly on the mouth. Because he’s right there. Because he’s so, so close, and because Keith is allowed to now.

Lance grins against Keith’s lips, eyes closed and arms tight around his waist.

Keith leans back, looking at Lance warmly. “Hey there, Sharpshooter.”

“Hey there, Samurai.” And Lance fucking _winks_.

Keith is so fucking _gone_ for this boy.

He buries his head in Lance’s neck, his cheeks hurting from all the smiling he’s been doing for the past couple hours. And to think he and Lance only got their shit together earlier that day. That they’ve only been...well, actually, Keith doesn’t know what they are.

So, he decides to be true to his blunt-self and asks, “What are we?” into the curve of Lance’s shoulder, voice only muffled slightly.

“What do you want us to be?” Lance asks in response, his arms tightening around Keith.

“I want to be us. Only us. Each other’s.”

“How about boyfriends?” Lance murmurs. Keith can hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah,” mumbles Keith, lips brushing the warm skin of Lance’s jugular. “I’d like that. My boyfriend.”

Lance hums, and Keith feels it tingle in his lips. “Your boyfriend.”

Keith lets the quiet slip back over them, pressing light butterfly kisses from Lance’s throat and along his collarbone, moving the fabric of his shirt aside so he can kiss the skin underneath. Lance shivers, and Keith can’t help but nip at the soft flesh that’s now and officially _his_.

It almost startles him when Lance growls and pushes Keith over, using his momentum to hold himself up over him, a wicked glint in his blue eyes.

“I’m trying to have a serious conversation with my boyfriend,” he says in a low, husky voice that sends a flash of heat throughout Keith, “but he seems to insist on getting me all _hot_ and _bothered_ instead. What do you suppose I should do about that?”

Keith’s eyes flutter shut, his heart rate skyrocketing and his skin feeling _hot hot hot_ where Lance is touching him. Then he opens his eyes, looking at Lance dead-on, a challenge. “Try me, Loverboy.”

And then they’re kissing again, a renewed fervor bringing a steadily rising heat to their push and pull. Keith fears that he is becoming increasingly addicted to anything and everything Lance -- Lance’s lips, Lance’s taste, Lance’s touch. Keith is an addict, Lance is his drug, and he is on fire, burning with the high.

Keith gasps when Lance’s fingers find their way up the sides of his shirt, his skin lighting up wherever Lance brushes him. It’s unsettling, really, that Lance has this effect on him -- he’s never felt this way before, and as new and scary as it is, the fact that it’s _Lance_ doing this to him makes it all a hundred, a thousand times better.

Lance pulls back just long enough to take Keith’s shirt off, barely giving Keith the time to recover from that bruising kiss before he’s attacking his neck, making him arch into the touch. Keith knows from the harsh sucking and biting that he’ll have killer hickeys the next day, but he’s too lost in the sweet feeling of Lance’s mouth on him to care or even think twice about it.

There are hands all over him, making his head spin as all the blood in his head rushes elsewhere. In a moment of semi-coherency, Keith runs his fingers up Lance’s sides, tugging at the hem of his shirt and forcing Lance to pull back just enough to get his shirt off too.

Keith takes the opportunity to trail his eyes over Lance -- _his boyfriend_ \-- and bites his lip as he takes in the hard, smooth planes of Lance’s chest, colored by a dark flush that creeps up his neck and floods his cheeks, all the way up to hooded-blue eyes and mussed-up, sweaty hair.

“You’re so hot,” Keith can’t help but blurt, and he can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed because it’s the truth and the words get Lance even more flushed in the dim bedroom light.

Lance threads his fingers through Keith’s hair and brings him back into another bruising kiss. It isn’t long before the rest of their clothes are off their bodies and lost somewhere on the floor, the skin-on-skin contact finally giving them some relief as they rub shamelessly against each other, moaning and groaning at the friction between them.

Keith pulls back with a gasp, giving Lance a sultry look and biting his lip. “Do you want to fuck me again, Lance?”

Lance just whimpers at that, pulling Keith back flush against him and reaching down to hold both their lengths as best he can in his hand alone. He strokes them both lazily, and Keith pants and jerks, struggling not to thrust up into the warmth of Lance’s flesh around his dick.

After Keith begins to feel close, he pushes Lance away and turns over, thrusting his hips back and looking over his shoulder. “C’mon, baby, get me ready.”

It’s almost fascinating, the way Lance seems to positively _melt_ at the petname. _Interesting_ , Keith thinks with a smirk. _I’ll have to file that for later use_.

His smirk disappears pretty much immediately after that, though, because before he can even process what’s happening, there are fingers gripping his ass and _spreading_ , and then something warm and wet stroking over his sensitive entrance.

“ _Lance_!” exclaims Keith, hips twitching. An answering moan sends vibrations throughout Keith, and the tongue in his ass begins moving with fervor, flicking and licking and making Keith’s vision blur as he’s all-consumed by the sheer pleasure Lance is giving him.

Lance pulls off for a moment to breathe, his breath hot and heavy against his sensitive, twitching hole. “Lube?” he asks. Keith crawls forward a bit, reaching for the little bottle (half-way gone, Keith notes sheepishly) that sits on his bedside table, behind the lamp.

He tosses the lube back to Lance, and tenses in wait. It isn’t long before Lance is fingering him open, brushing against his prostate with purpose and bringing out noises from Keith that, if ever asked, he would most definitely deny making.

“Lance,” Keith whines. “I need you… inside, baby, please…”

Lance nods against his back, and there’s a little bit of shuffling as Lance gets himself ready. Keith’s breath hitches when he feels the leaking tip of Lance’s dick pressing against his entrance. After a moment of just rubbing the head against Keith, Lance finally begins pushing in with a low groan.

He stops halfway in.

“Lance!” Keith whines in protest, hitching his hips backward and trying to get more inside him. “Why did you stop?”

“Fuck, Keith,” Lance pants. “Shitting hell, _fuck_ , need to pull out--”

“Don’t you fucking _dare_ ,” Keith growls.

“Condom!” gasps Lance. “Forgot-- _fuck_ , need a condom!”

Keith looks back over his shoulder, equal parts annoyed and aroused at his boyfriend’s panic. “Lance, I love you, but are you fucking stupid?”

Lance has the nerve to look offended. “ _Excuse_ me?” he asks in disbelief. “Need I remind you what happened the last time we did this without protection?”

Keith can’t help it -- he laughs, turning and pushing Lance off of him. Lance still looks irked.

“Lance,” Keith says, voice low as he pushes Lance back against the headboard of the bed and moves to straddle his waist. Before he can figure out what he’s doing and try to stop him, Keith kisses Lance and sinks down onto his dick in one fluid motion, making Lance cry out into Keith’s mouth in surprise. Keith leans forward to bite Lance’s earlobe, and whispers, “Do you realize I’m already pregnant? You can’t get a pregnant person pregnant before they’ve even given birth the first time.”

“O-oh,” Lance stutters, wide-eyed. “Right.”

Keith is about to roll his eyes, but decides on rolling his hips instead. Lance moans beneath him and thrusts up, making Keith arch his back and his eyes roll back into his head. Lifting himself up, almost completely off Lance, Keith sinks back down and whines when the slide hits his prostate _just right_. He sets a fast and relentless pace that leaves them both panting and gasping for air, bringing them closer and closer to the brink.

“Fuck, Keith, I’m so close,” Lance whimpers. He begins to match Keith’s pace thrust for thrust, and Keith practically wails when fingers wrap around his hard, swollen length and begin stroking.

It isn’t long before Keith is coming all over him and Lance, letting out a choked off cry as he clenches around Lance, trying his best to keep his pace steady. Lance is sweating with exertion, his own thrusts becoming erratic as he chases his own orgasm. Keith leans forward and kisses him, murmuring against his lips.

“Come on, Lance,” he rasps. “Come for me, baby.”

And -- with a sharp cry and a gasp -- he does.

After Lance finishes inside him, Keith collapses onto the bed, sweaty and sated and exhausted. Lance pulls out and gets up quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of Keith’s head as he disappears into the bathroom, leaving Keith alone in bed only for a couple moments. Then he’s back with a warm wash cloth, cleaning them both off with a dopey smile plastered on his face.

He sets the wash cloth aside when he’s finished, and Keith rolls over to make room for him. Lance crawls back in under the cover, pulling Keith into his arms, warmth enveloping him and making his eyes droop with sleep.

They’re silent, for a few moments, the bedroom quiet except for their steady breathing. Keith rests his head against Lance’s smooth chest, listening to the unwavering heartbeat underneath. The sound makes a lazy smile spread over Keith’s face.

“Hey, Keith?” Keith feels Lance’s voice more than he hears it.

“Mm, yes?”

“So, my parents are having a traditional McClain family dinner tomorrow night.”

Keith bites his lip to suppress his smile. Maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones, but Lance’s love for his family is so obvious in the way he talks about them, and it’s so freaking cute.

“That sounds fun,” he tells him. “You must be excited to have a home-cooked meal for once.”

“Oh definitely,” Lance replies, his voice laced with laughter. “No offense to Hunk, of course, but _no one_ can beat my Mama’s cooking. Especially her garlic knots.”

Keith laughs fondly. “You’re so cute,” he sighs dreamily. “And you’re making me hungry.”

He feels Lance’s embrace tighten around him. “ _You’re_ cute,” he says, obviously smiling. “But really. Will you come to dinner with me tomorrow?”

Keith looks up to meet Lance’s fervent gaze.

“Really?” Keith asks, shy. Lance just smiles softly at him, looking so beautiful it’s almost painful, and nods.

“I want you to meet my family, Keith,” he says earnestly. “I want to introduce them to my boyfriend and the father of my future child.”

And Keith is so happy he could cry. His throat is thick with emotion, and he has to bury his face back into Lance’s neck before answering.

“I want that too,” he says in a hushed voice. “ _Yes_. Let’s do that.”

Lance, in turn, pushes his face into Keith’s hair, his voice somehow as clear as it is muffled. “I love you,” he says simply. Keith smiles -- smiles big and happy and shameless, because sometimes, it’s harder not to.

“I love you too, Lance.”

 

* * *

 

_“You who have suffered, find where love hides. Give. Share. Lose. Lest we die unbloomed.” -Kill Your Darlings, Allen Ginsberg_

 

* * *

 

 

The inevitable anxiety of what Keith actually agreed to doesn’t hit him until right before Lance’s family dinner.

He’s in his room, holding up two hangers with two different dress shirts up in the mirror, frowning. Lance is lounging calmly on his bed, watching Keith in amusement as he leans back on his elbows.

“Honey, baby, sweetheart, love, they’re the same shirt.”

Keith glares at Lance’s reflection in the mirror. “No they’re not,” he insists. He holds up the shirt in his left hand against his chest, scrutinizing. “This one’s a darker red. And the buttons are on the right side, not the left.”

“Oh no, whatever will my family say!” Lance gasps in a faux-scandalized voice. “Buttons on the right? Absolutely sacrilege!”

“I swear to quiznaking Alfor, Lance, I’m trying to look nice for once. For _your_ family!”

Lance shakes his head and pushes himself up off the bed, walking forward and wrapping his arms around Keith’s waist from behind. And Keith can’t help it -- he melts into the embrace, pouting at Lance childishly. Lance just laughs and kisses the pout away.

“Keith, baby,” Lance practically coos, and Keith hates the fact that his soothing tone is actually calming. “First of all, you always look nice -- don’t give me that look, it’s the truth -- and, second of all, my family is going to love you even if you came to dinner wearing that god-awful cropped jacket and kept your mullet uncombed.”

Keith gives Lance a dirty look, who laughs and squeezes him in return. “Kidding, kidding! But seriously, Keith, they’re going to love you no matter what, I swear. Just be yourself, okay? That’s all.”

Keith sighs and looks back in the mirror, eyes shifting between the two shirts still. Lance rolls his eyes and deliberately lowers the darker one.

“Fine,” Lance concedes. “Wear the lighter one. God knows you’re already dark and brooding enough as is, wardrobe aside.”

Satisfied at the answer, Keith sets the darker shirt aside, beaming at Lance and pecking him swiftly on the cheek. As he goes to change into the decided shirt, he can’t help but feel a little bit smug at the flustered expression that overtakes Lance’s previously calm demeanor, a blush gracing his cheeks prettily and sending a light flutter throughout Keith.

It takes Keith less than five minutes to finish getting ready, and he can’t quite keep the smile off his face when Lance reaches toward him and laces their fingers together.

“Ready, Mullet?” Lance asks mischievously, squeezing Keith’s hand gently with an arch of his eyebrow.

Keith’s too nervous to give a witty quip in response, so he just takes a deep breath, nods, and squeezes Lance’s hand back. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

****

The outside of the McClain household is surprisingly reserved -- it’s off-white with small windows and a creamy brown colored roof. There’s a tall tree out front, with huge, spidery branches. Attached to one of the branches is a rope-and-board swing, which looks worn and weathered with age. Keith follows Lance to the porch, standing only slightly behind him when he knocks one, two, three times against the mahogany door.

The inside of the McClain household, on the other hand, is unsurprisingly chaotic. Somehow, though, it still manages to catch Keith off-guard.

It’s Veronica who opens the door for them, and she practically squeals when she sees its them, pouncing on the both of them and draping herself over them in a big, warm hug, despite the fact that she had seen both of them at the Garrison in a meeting just earlier that day.

There are at least four or five different children running around rampant across the living room, and a couple adults who Keith recognizes as some of Lance’s other siblings sit on the couch and watch them with cheery expressions gracing their faces.

“You guys made it!” Veronica says happily, bringing Keith’s attention back from the busy scene behind her. She looks at Keith directly and gives him a warm smile. “I’m so glad you were able to come, Keith.”

“Hey, what about me?” jokes Lance, and Veronica rolls her eyes at her brother and gives Keith a knowing smile.

“Eh,” she says, nonchalant. “I guess I’m glad my lame younger brother decided to show up too.”

Lance sticks his tongue out at her childishly, and Keith can’t help but be fascinated by the teasing but loving dynamic between Lance and Veronica. It reminds him of old days at the Garrison, when he and Shiro would go out and race hoverbikes well into the night, all playful and challenging banter. He smiles, nostalgic.

“So are we gonna stand here all night, or are you going to introduce me to the rest of your family?” asks Keith lightly, wrapping a hand around Lance’s bicep and squeezing (and, admittedly, swooning -- just _slightly_ \-- at the way the muscle flexes beneath his grip).

Veronica chuckles and moves partially to the left, holding the door open and gesturing for the two of them to enter.

“Hey everybody, Keith and Lance are here!”

They are immediately bombarded and engulfed by Lance’s family, and Keith can’t help but be a little overwhelmed at the sheer amount of affection Lance’s family has to give. He’s hugged and patted and introduced to each member one by one, courtesy of Lance. He’s introduced -- formally -- to the rest of Lance’s siblings: Luis, Marco, and Rachel. Then there’s Rachel’s husband and kids, plus a couple cousins who decided to drop in last minute when they heard Lance was coming with a ‘guest of honor’. Overwhelming as it is, though, it makes Keith feel more giddy and welcome than ever.

Then, finally, it comes time to meet Lance’s parents.

Suddenly, all of Keith’s nerves are flooding back, and he has to grip back onto Lance again to steady himself.

Lance’s mother is in the kitchen, hustling and bustling around as she finishes up the cooking. Keith can smell it as soon as he walks in, and the scent hits him hard, making his mouth water and his pregnant stomach growl so loudly he’s pretty sure that’s the reason why Lance’s mom turns and and finally notices the two of them.

“ _Lancito_!”

And then Lance’s mother is rushing toward them both, throwing her arms around Lance and squeezing him so tightly Keith is a bit concerned for his boyfriend’s ( _God_ that feels so good to think) health.

She pulls back a little bit, holding Lance on both sides of his face and pinching his cheeks. “ _Mijo_ , you’re so skinny!” Keith tries and fails to suppress a snort at that.

Lance’s mother finally turns, her kind face beaming at Keith. “And who is this?”

Keith smiles at her shyly. “My name is Keith,” he answers, holding out his hand for her to shake. “Lance’s friend. It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. McClain.”

She takes his hand, but instead of shaking it, she uses it as leverage to pull Keith into a tight embrace.

“It’s very nice to meet you too, Keith,” she says as she lets go of him. “I’m glad you came. Any friend of Lance’s is a friend of ours.” Her eyes are practically twinkling at him, and Keith notices they’re the same shade of blue as Lance’s. “And please, call me Evelyn. ‘Mrs. McClain’ makes me feel so _old_.”

“Thank you for having me, Evelyn,” he tells her earnestly.

“Of course!” She nudges Lance, raising her eyebrows mischievously. Keith is taken aback by how many times he’s seen that same exact expression on Lance’s face, sometimes even directed at _him_ . “It’s no problem. Anything for Lance’s _rival_ , right?”

Keith watches in amusement as Lance sputters and goes bright red, making his mother laugh good-naturedly.

Before Lance can say anything in response, though, something near the oven -- a timer, Keith realizes -- beeps. Evelyn perks up at that.

“There goes the garlic knots!” she exclaims, patting both boys before going to check on the food. Lance lights up at the mention of his favorite food.

Keith smiles at that, and leans over to kiss Lance on the cheek after Evelyn’s back is turned. “That went well,” he says, low enough to be heard only by Lance.

Lance returns Keith’s smile, looking quite proud. “Yeah, it did. But now we’ve gotta find my dad.”

“In his office!” says Evelyn, making Keith and Lance jump. She turns around to look at them smugly, clearly having heard them talking. “Go call him out too. Dinner should be done in five minutes.”

Nodding sheepishly, Keith and Lance make their way out of the kitchen, Lance shaking his head and muttering to himself in Spanish.

“Does your mom have super-human hearing or something?”

“I swear she has the ability to sense when you’re trying to keep something from her,” replies Lance, who sounds completely and one hundred percent serious.

Keith pauses in his stride, looking up at Lance worriedly. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Sometimes,” Lance admits. But then, he smiles at Keith, one of his soft and intimate smiles that feel like they’re exclusively directed to him. “But I guess not this time.”

Keith smiles back, certain he looks just as stupidly whipped. “Okay,” he says. “Let’s go find your dad.”

Lance leads the way to his dad’s office, effortlessly guiding Keith as if he didn’t spend years in space away from this house. As if he’d never left. They approach a closed door at the end of a carpeted hallway, and Lance knocks on it gently.

“Papa?” he calls into the closed room.

There’s some audible shuffling from the other side of the door, and a scraggly voice calls out something in Spanish. A couple moments later, the door swings open to reveal none other than Lance’s father.

“Lance?”

“Hi Dad,” Lance replies with a big, goofy smile. Lance’s dad almost immediately matches his easy grin, hugging his son and clapping his hand on Lance’s shoulder.

They separate, and Lance nudges Keith. “This is my friend, Keith Kogane. Keith, this is my dad.”

Again, Keith sticks his hand out for Lance’s dad to shake, and this time that’s all it is -- a big, warm hand closes around Keith’s and shakes it firmly.

“Nice to meet you, Keith. Lance has told us a lot about you.”

Keith smiles, his anxiety slowly but steadily waning. “Nice to meet you too, Mr. McClain.”

Lance slings an arm around Keith’s shoulders, a comforting weight that he struggles not to lean into. At least, not too much.

“Mama said dinner’s almost ready,” Lance tells his father. Mr. McClain nods, looking back into his office.

“Tell her I’ll be right out,” he responds. “I just have a little bit of work left, then I’m completely free the rest of the night.”

Lance agrees, and he and Keith walk back out to the rest of the family, leaving his father to finish his work n peace. Keith takes a deep, shaky breath and tries to calm his racing heart.

“Introductions down, coming out as being expecting boyfriends to go,” Lance jokes, but Keith can hear the nervousness that colors his voice. He wraps an arm around Lance’s waist and pulls him closer.

“It’s going to be alright,” he tells Lance, and after meeting Lance’s family officially, he’s genuinely confident in that statement. “It’s all going to be alright.”

****

The food is _delicious_.

Keith can’t pronounce half the names (or less than half, really), and he probably couldn’t tell you what each dish actually _is_ , but everything tastes so fucking good that Keith is sad when he finally starts to feel full.

There’s an easy-going conversation being spoken in Spanish that Keith allows to dissipate into background noise. He takes a moment to watch Lance as he speaks animatedly to his brother Marco, his lips quirking up at the excited expression lighting up his boyfriend’s face, his arms waving around adorably.

And then Lance catches his eye, and Keith’s face heats up at getting caught staring. Lance doesn’t seem to be fairing any better, coughing into his hand self-consciously as he also goes red in the cheeks.

It doesn’t help that Marco notices their flustered awkwardness, smirking as he glances between the two of them.

Lance glares at his brother, then looks back toward Keith with apologetic eyes. Keith squeezes his knee from underneath the table, and Lance’s face softens with a sweet smile.

“When do you want to…?” Keith trails off lowly, beneath his breath.

Lance doesn’t need him to clarify. Taking a deep breath, he places his hand over Keith’s and mutters, “No time like the present.”

Keith doesn’t have the chance to reply before Lance is clearing his throat loudly, intentionally. The conversation dies down, and suddenly all eyes of the McClain family are on Lance.

“I, uh, I have something I need to tell you guys,” he announces, swallowing visibly.

It’s quiet, for a moment, before his mother finally speaks, looking concerned, “What is it, _mijo_?”

Keith flips his hand from under Lance’s, lacing their fingers together firmly. Lance’s palm is sweating.

“I…” Another deep breath. “Keith and I -- well, we’re together. I’m, uh… I’m dating Keith.”

Silence, and then an explosion of questions and comments.

“ _Seriously_?”

“Uncle Lance is dating a boy?”

“This is so lovely!”

“I _knew_ it.”

“We’re so proud of you, Lance.”

“Everybody _shush_!”

Silence again.

Everyone turns to look at the Evelyn, the person who shushed them all. Her face is unreadable, and it scares Keith. Lance has started trembling beside him at his mother’s blank face, so Keith squeezes his hand in an attempt of reassurance.

“Do you love him?” she asks finally, her eyebrows knitting together.

Lance takes another breath, long and unsteady. Then, he looks his mother right in the eye, tilting his chin up just the slightest. The sight takes Keith’s breath away.

“More than anything,” he declares. “As much as I love any of you.”

She nods. “Good.” And, turning to Keith, “Don’t break my son’s heart.”

Keith’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t dare say anything but, “Yes ma’am.”

Evelyn gets up from the table after that, and everyone stays quiet as she walks around the table to Lance and wraps her arms around him for the second time that night.

Lance lets go of Keith’s hand to return the hug, and Keith watches as he buries his face in his mother’s shoulder.

“I’m glad you told us,” Evelyn says, closing her eyes as she holds her son.

“I’m glad I told you too,” Lance replies, his voice cracking. He pulls away and reaches for Keith’s hand again, this time holding it in plain sight on top of the table. He hesitates before asking, quietly, “You’re not...disappointed, are you?”

Evelyn looks at Lance’s father, across the table still, who looks more perplexed than anything else. Mr. McClain just shrugs. “I figured one of you five would end up gay, so I’m not really surprised.”

This earns him a couple snorts all around the table, but Mr. McClain just looks genuinely confused. Keith feels for him.

“I just didn’t expect the gay one to be you, Lance,” he continues. “I thought you liked girls the _most_ out of all of us.”

Lance looks vaguely uncomfortable, but he shakes his head. “No, you have it wrong, Dad -- I still like girls. Always have, always will. But, I like boys too. Well,” he glances at Keith. “Just one boy, right now. And probably -- hopefully -- for a long time.”

“Oh,” says Lance’s dad. “Okay. Obviously this is a little weird for me, and I can’t pretend I completely understand it right now, but I’m not disappointed, Lance.”

“Thank you, Papa,” Lance tells him with a relieved smile. But the nervousness is back, when he realizes the same thing Keith already has -- Evelyn hasn’t answered the question yet. Lance looks at his mother, looking both a little hopeful and a little scared.

“Mama?”

Evelyn gives Lance a tender, motherly look. “Is that even a question, Lancito?” she inquires softly, placing a hand on his head and making Lance seem ten years younger. “I’m so, so proud of you, _cariño_.”

Lance tears up at that, his blue eyes looking more watery than usual, and Evelyn reaches forward and presses a kiss to his forehead. Lance sniffs and uses the hand that isn’t holding Keith’s to wipe at his eyes.

“I love you, Mama,” he rasps throatily. She laughs.

“I love you too, Lance.” Evelyn ruffles his hair, and then looks at him playfully. “Don’t ever think I could be disappointed in you, _mijo_. If anything, I’m just a little sad I you won’t be giving me any more grandchildren any time soon!”

Lance flinches -- actually _flinches_ \-- and Keith cringes in response. Lance’s mother, clearly observant and astute, immediately looks between the two boys warily.

“Lance, Keith,” she says, slowly. “Is there anything else you have to say to us?”

There’s a pregnant -- _ha_ \-- pause, and Lance looks at Keith with wide, panicked eyes.

Keith braces himself, horrified. This is going to be a _long_ dinner.

****

 _Long dinner indeed,_ thinks Keith as he and Lance being hugged and kissed and waved goodbye by his family. He’s exhausted, especially with all the questions everyone had after Lance finally dropped the bomb.

But he’s also strangely giddy, high on the relief that came with the night going so much better than he had been anticipating.

“Well that went...better than planned,” says Lance, echoing Keith’s thoughts and sounding relieved. “I’m surprised my mom didn’t beat my ass with her _chanclas_ for getting you pregnant before marriage.”

Keith pinches Lance’s cheek. “They did take it pretty well,” he agrees. “Probably just because I was there, though.”

Lance laughs and nods. “You’ve got that right. Mama probably just didn’t want to stress the baby.” He takes Keith’s hand in his, then veers them in a direction opposite from where Red is parked waiting.

“Where are we going?” asks Keith curiously.

Lance smiles at him, a bit mischievous. “You’ll see.”

****

They end up at the beach.

“Varadero is so beautiful at night,” Lance murmurs, sounding awestruck. Keith can’t help but agree. The reflection of the moon shimmers prettily in the dark, midnight blue waters, and the sand is soft and powdery between Keith’s bare toes.

“I’ve seen things more beautiful,” Keith says, looking at Lance’s profile, softened by the moonlight.

Lance looks back at Keith, raising an eyebrow. Keith smiles and shrugs.

“You’ve got to stop doing that,” Lance says after a minute. They’ve reached the damp shoreline, and the water is still somehow warm when it laps at Keith’s ankles.

“Doing what?”

“Making me fall deeper in love with you.”

Keith bites his lip, trying his best not to grin like a total idiot. “Sorry,” he tells Lance, not sounding sorry at all.

They stand there, pant legs rolled up and water swirling around them, holding hands in the moonlight. After a few moments of not talking, just listening to the gentle, rolling waves, Lance speaks once more.

“Thank you, Keith.” Keith looks at him, questioningly, prompting Lance to elaborate. “For coming tonight. You know, for putting up with my crazy family.”

Keith tilts his head slightly. “You don’t have to thank me, Lance. There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for you, after all.”

Lance smiles at that. “Oh?” he says, playfully. “What wouldn’t you do for me, Keith?”

“Let you go,” Keith answers immediately.

He doesn’t know how he expected Lance to react -- but he knows something’s off, when Lance tenses, his smile dropping a little.

“What’s wrong?”

Lance hesitates. “Well…” He looks down, kicking at a rock resting beside his foot. “It’s just… you know what, never mind. It’s stupid.”

Keith frowns. “It’s not stupid, Lance. Tell me.”

A sigh. “Well, Keith, you _did_ let me go. You left, remember? And I know you did it because you had, like, a duty or whatever, but with you gone… I don’t know. It was like there was this Keith-shaped void in me, and… and I _missed_ you.”

Keith is quiet for a moment. Then, softly, he tells Lance the truth.

“I left to protect the one I loved most.” He looks up, reaching over with his free hand to lift Lance’s chin, making him meet his eyes. “You.”

“What?”

Keith flattens his hand against Lance’s cheek, cradling his face gently. “Remember that day you came to me in my room? After Shiro -- or, Shiro’s clone, I guess -- came back, and you told me you were thinking about stepping down?”

Lance nods.

“Well… After you left, I thought about it some more… I didn’t want you to feel like you weren’t needed, because you _were_. But I didn’t know how to tell you outright, and even if I did, I didn’t know if it would be enough to convince you.

“So, I left. Because I had a spot with the Blades. And don’t think for a _second_ that I didn’t miss you guys -- all of you guys, but especially you, Lance. But I needed to leave. Maybe there was more to it, but that was a big part of it. You deserved to know how much the team needed its sharpshooter.”

Silence, and then, “You’re an idiot.”

Before Keith can respond though, Lance is pulling him into a bone-crushing hug, squeezing him so tightly he feels like he might pass out.

“I missed you _so fucking much_ , Keith,” Lance whispers into Keith’s hair. “I thought I was going insane without you. I thought you just -- I thought you left because of something we did. Something _I_ did. And I was so fucking _lonely_ without you. Not to mention how scared I got when you’d go weeks without talking to us. I was so afraid we’d get a call from the Blades to tell us you didn’t make it out of a mission…”

“I was scared too,” Keith whispers back, holding onto Lance like a lifeline. “I didn’t know the next time I would see you guys...especially when I was on the back of that space whale with my mom. I had to stop thinking about the future and focus on the present, because I didn’t want to drive myself mad thinking about _what if_.”

“You’re here now, though,” mumbles Lance. “We’re here, together. We made it, baby.”

Keith can only nod into Lance’s embrace.

“Promise me you won’t leave again,” breathes Lance. “Promise you’ll never leave me again.”

“I promise.” Keith presses a kiss to Lance’s collarbone. “I promise I’ll never leave you again, Lance.”

Lance tightens his hold around Keith almost imperceptibly, but it’s enough that Keith understands -- understands what Lance went through without him, understands how Lance must have been feeling when Keith pushed him away as soon as he got back to the team… he finally, _finally_ understands.

“Never again…”

****

It’s late -- very, very late -- but Keith still tells Lance to stop and land just a little bit before they near his old desert shack. It’s only fair, after introducing Keith to his entire family, that Keith should introduce him to the rest of his.

Kyle Kogane’s grave is toward the edge of the tiny graveyard, easy to spot after the many times Keith visited it over the years. He leads Lance quietly, being mindful not to step on any of the other few graves they pass by.

He stops in front of his father’s grave, his chest tightening the way it always does when he comes to visit. But somehow, with Lance standing reassuringly next to him, he doesn’t feel as overwhelmed with grief as he normally would.

“He died when I was eleven,” Keith murmurs. “He was a firefighter -- a real hero. My mom left before I was old enough to remember her, so for a long time it was just me and my dad. Until one day, they called me in during school and told me he had gone into a burning building...which wasn’t exactly news to me. The only difference was, that time, something went wrong with his mask -- it wasn’t filtering the air like it was supposed to, so he ended up inhaling a bunch of smoke. He came out, but it was too much on his heart and lungs. He passed away just a few hours later. A silent heart attack, they told me.”

At first, Lance doesn’t speak. And then, “Thank you. For telling me this.” He turns to face Keith. “Seriously, this means so much to me, Keith.”

Keith doesn’t know exactly why, but he feels shy all of a sudden. “I mean, you introduced me to your family today. I owe you this much, at least.”

Lance frowns at that. “Keith, love, you don’t owe me anything.”

“Okay,” Keith agrees. “But I _want_ to do this.”

“You’re sure? You don’t have to…”

Keith doesn’t answer. Instead, he takes a step away from Lance and kneels down in front of his father’s grave, his fingers trembling as they trail through the slightly damp earth. He closes his eyes and swallows.

“Dad…” he says quietly, his voice quivering slightly but strengthening with each word. “I know it’s been awhile. But I just wanted to tell you… I met someone. As in, well, I fell in _love_ . He’s this super cute--” Keith lets out a choked laugh-- “boy named Lance McClain. I think you’d like him. Actually, scratch that -- I _know_ you’d like him; he’s kind and funny and polite, and by some unknown astronomical force, he loves me back. I know you probably expected me to end up with some pretty girl or whatever, but you fell in love with a literal alien, so I think I get a pass on falling in love with a human boy.

“Also… I’m pregnant. Side effect of being half alien, I guess… yeah, I know -- what the hell, am I right? But anyway, you’ll have a grandkid pretty soon, Pops.” Keith has to stop for a moment, his voice thickening with emotion. “I wish you could meet them, for real. I think… I think you’d be proud. I-I miss you, Dad.”

He’s crying now, hot tears leaking out of his closed eyes and down his cheeks. Lance is immediately down on his knees next to him, pulling Keith into his arms and holding him tightly.

When Keith doesn’t continue -- _can’t_ continue -- Lance begins to speak instead.

“Hey, Mr. Kogane,” he says, combing his fingers through Keith’s hair soothingly. “I know I never got the chance to meet you formally, but from what I’ve gathered from the things Keith has told me about you, you’re a great man. And I think you would -- or at least, you should -- be proud of the man your son has become. You don’t know me, but I want to tell you nonetheless that I’m going to do my damnedest to love Keith and our baby with everything I’ve got. I promise you, I will take care of your son. He’s the love of my life, and I can only hope to be someone you can approve of for him.”

The tears are flowing freely now, Lance’s gentle and earnest words overwhelming Keith with inexplicable emotion. Lance goes silent again, just holding Keith close and letting him cry, pressing soft, tender kisses against his forehead and whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

It takes awhile, but Keith eventually is able to calm down. He lets Lance wipe his face for him, thumbs stroking feather-light across Keith’s cheeks.

“Thank you,” Keith whispers hoarsely. Lance gives him a warm smile, and leans forward to capture Keith’s lips -- even though they’re wet with tears and snot -- in a sweet, lingering kiss.

“Thank _you_ , Keith.” He turns slightly, facing the solemn grave in front of them. “And thank you, too.”

 

* * *

 

  _“You’re just a small bump, unborn, in four months you’re brought to life… a small bump, in four months you’ll open your eyes.” -Ed Sheeran, Small Bump_

 

* * *

 

 

“SURPRISE!”

Keith blinks, cradling his bulging abdomen as he takes in the scene before him -- pink and blue streamers lining the ceiling, a table stacked with various presents and boxes of diapers, a cake in the shape of a round, pregnant belly, and a huge banner that spans across one whole wall and says ‘CONGRATULATIONS’ in big, bold letters.

 _A baby shower_ , Keith’s mind supplies helpfully as he stands there and gapes at the smiling, happy faces grinning widely at him and Lance.

It must be hormones (or at least, that’s what Keith decides it is), because Keith suddenly has to swallow around the lump in his throat.

“Holy shit,” Lance breathes from behind him.

“Guys--” Keith chokes. “You really didn’t have to--”

“Nonsense!” exclaims Allura, emerging from the sea of faces with a dazzling, _blinding_ grin plastered across her face. Pidge comes prancing behind her and clips something to the collars of both their shirts. Keith looks down; it’s a clothespin.

“There’s no way we _weren’t_ going to throw you guys a baby shower. Who do you heathens think we are?” Pidge smirks at the two of them, eyebrows flicking up at the dumbfounded expressions surely on both their faces. “Also, don’t say the word ‘baby’ or you’ll lose your clothespin.”

Lance turns to Keith and frowns. “Guess I can’t call you baby anymore, Keith.”

Keith raises an eyebrow. Lance goes wide-eyed after a moment, realizing his mistake a beat too late.

“Shit!”

Keith just laughs at Lance’s pout as he reaches forward and takes his clothespin for himself.

“Aw, man, c’mon ba-- _love_.”

Maintaining his smug look, Keith fixes Lance’s former clothespin next to the one on his own shirt. Lance tries the puppy-dog look with him next, but Keith snorts and refuses to waver.

“Honeybunches? Sweetiepie? Snugglebunches?” Lance tries, and Keith has to stifle his giggles. “ _Cuddlekins_?”

“I think I prefer ‘Mullet’,” deadpans Keith, and Pidge laughs loudly and grabs Keith by the wrist so she can tug him toward the rest of the party.

“Let’s go then, _Mullet_ ,” grins Pidge. Allura comes behind him and clamps her hands firmly onto his shoulders. Together, they drag him (and a trailing Lance, still looking mildly dejected by the whole clothespin ordeal) through the huge party, letting them greet each guest.

The line of people waiting to personally congratulate Keith and Lance is so long that Keith loses track of their numbers almost immediately. Pretty much everyone they know is there: Team Voltron, Team Atlas, the MFE fighters, a few Blade members, a select number of rebel fighters, some of the Garrison professors who Keith had prior to getting kicked out, all of Lance’s family, various members of the Coalition, and even Hunk’s family.

All in all, it’s a seemingly endless amount of social interaction, and Keith is exhausted long before it’s over. But he doesn’t mind (that much) because of the genuine happiness everyone expresses toward him and Lance. The joy that emanates so clearly and unobstructed throughout the room keeps Keith’s energy up high enough that, as long as Lance is by his side and holding onto him in some way, he doesn’t mind all the people the way he normally would.

Hunk is a blessing, of course, and cooks up a storm with the help of his family. Keith, who has the excuse that he’s eating for two now, practically inhales plate after plate to the point where Pidge complains that if she loses the Belly Measuring Game, it’ll be because Keith ate himself another couple inches on his waistline. (She wins anyway, of course.)

The party lasts a good few hours, but Keith is having such a good time chatting idly and stuffing his face that the time seems to just fly by. But people are starting to leave, having other, personal duties to attend to, so Allura claps her hands together and announces, “Presents time!” in an enthusiastic, chirpy voice.

The people who stay gather around Keith and Lance as Shiro and Krolia help pass them their gifts to open.

Most of them are the essentials -- diapers, baby clothes, baby bottles, pacifiers, bibs, toys, money -- while others are admittedly more...interesting.

Lance stares at the opened box sitting in Keith’s lap. “Is that a...knife?”

“Oh my God, Mom, this is so great!” Keith gushes, a little misty-eyed. “It’s perfect, wow, the baby will love it…”

“...Like mother, like son I guess.” Lance shrugs eventually.

They open the last of the gifts, thanking everyone profusely. But then, at the last minute, James Griffin runs up to the two of them, panting and holding a plain, white box.

“Sorry, the order _just_ became ready for pick up,” James apologizes between deep breaths. “Here.”

Lance is glaring at Griffin, and Keith doesn’t know whether the sight is more annoying or endearing. Before Lance can say something dumb or passive-aggressive, Keith takes the proffered box with a gracious smile.

“Thank you, James,” Keith says pointedly, elbowing Lance in the side.

“Yeah,” Lance grunts. “Thanks, Griffin.”

James holds his hands up in surrender, taking a step back and avoiding Lance’s gaze. “No problem, guys. Seriously, congratulations. I’m happy for you two.”

“Sure you are,” mumbles Lance, and Keith rolls his eyes in exasperation.

“Just open it, Lance.”

Lance cedes and lifts the lid of the box with a little shake. Underneath a layer of tissue paper, folded nice and neat, is a little baby Garrison uniform that looks just big enough for an infant. Instead of the standard orange color though, the fabric is a pale, soft lilac. Lance lifts the uniform out of the box, carefully, and holds it up, looking conflicted.

“...I guess it’s kind of cute,” Lance grumbles under his breath, and Keith just bursts out laughing.

“There’s no need to be jealous, silly,” Keith says after James is out of earshot. “I’m yours now, remember baby?”

Lance looks at him, a strange expression crossing his face. Then, slowly, like the motherfucking Chesire Cat, he grins. Keith is confused until he replays his own words in his head, groaning when he realizes his fuck-up.

Lance holds out his hand expectingly, smirking like the devil-himself. Keith is so weak for him he can’t even find it in himself to be mad about it, moving to unclip his clothespins with a resigned sigh.

“Pay up, _snugglebunny_.”

 

* * *

 

  _Because of their obvious lack of a birth canal, all male Galra must undergo surgery to have the baby removed when they begin labor._

 

* * *

 

 

Keith is, truthfully, really fucking _huge_.

As he began to near his due date (December 14th), Pidge and Coran sentenced him to bed rest despite all the Big Important Voltron Stuff the rest of the team was still constantly caught up in. (Good thing he can pilot Black without actually being inside him… Keith can’t even see his feet nowadays.)

It’s already bad enough that Lance is getting more and more anxious the closer they get to the date. Keith can appreciate his boyfriend’s sentiment, really, but he just doesn’t have the energy to put up with his excessive doting, plain and simple.

He tries not to snap at Lance, though, because he knows he means well. He accidentally yelled at him the other day, when Lance was fussing with Keith’s bedsheets and pillows, and the hurt that immediately colored his face had Keith hurriedly apologizing and feeling guilty for days. So now he lets him do as he pleases, and Lance tries to give him more space in return. (But in all honestly, Keith would be lying if he said he doesn’t enjoy the pain-relieving back and foot massages Lance is just _oh so good_ at.)

He’s lying in bed, reading a news article written about the Heroes of Voltron and trying not to laugh at all the absurdly inaccurate descriptions of each paladin, when he feels it.

 _Pain_ . A sharp, twisting pain in his lower pelvis. It’s tolerable, at first, and goes away after a couple seconds. But then it comes back, stronger and more demanding. Keith tries his best to ignore it, but the cramping sensation becomes more and more uncomfortable until he’s forced to acknowledge the truth of his situation: he’s in _labor_.

“Fuck,” mumbles Keith as he fumbles for the phone sitting on his bedside table, wincing when the movement aggravates him and sets off another painful wave of what is undoubtedly a contraction. Lance and the rest of the paladins (and Shiro) are away at a rally right now, and Keith doesn’t know if he can get himself out of bed without collapsing.

“Hello?” Lance’s voice sounds distant, and Keith can hear the large, cheering crowd in the background. “Keith, babe?”

“Lance.” Keith fights to keep the pain out of his voice. “Lance, I need help. I-I think this is it. I think the baby’s coming.”

“ _What_ ?” There’s some shuffling on the other end of the line. “Oh shit, okay, hold on Keith, I’m coming.” More shuffling, then Keith hears Lance’s voice again, but this time he’s yelling away from the receiver. “ _Guys? Holy quiznak Keith is about to give birth! Pidge! Coran! KEITH’S IN LABOR OH MY GOD EVERYONE I HAVE TO GO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE IS ABOUT TO GIVE BIRTH TO OUR CHILD_!!”

Keith can’t help but blush, moving the phone away from his ear as the crowd goes absolutely _wild_.

And he can’t even feel nervous or anxious about anything, because he’s gasping as another sharp pain practically punches the air out of him.

“Keith? Keith!”

“Yeah, I’m here,” Keith pants hoarsely, groaning as he tries to wait for the pain to pass.

Lance sounds like he’s running. “I’m coming -- I’ve got you, Keith.”

 _I know_ , Keith thinks, closing his eyes tightly as he waits.

****

He must have passed out or something, because the next thing Keith knows, he’s blinking under the bright, white light of an operation table.

Panicking, he lifts his head and searches frantically for Lance.

“Keith!” Looking up with wide eyes, Keith finally locks onto Lance, who’s wearing scrubs and a mask and walking in the room through a metal door. Practically running to his side, Lance grips Keith’s hand and holds on so tightly Keith’s fingers go numb.

“Lance?” Keith whispers. “Is it out? Is the baby out already?”

Lance shakes his head. “They’re about to take it out. Don’t worry, love, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.”

“But I can’t feel anything,” Keith says, confused.

“That’ll be the anesthetic,” a voice that doesn’t belong to Lance says. Keith looks up to see a kind-eyed doctor looking down at him. “Tell me immediately if you feel any pain, okay Keith? I’m going to cut into you now, so you’ll feel a little pressure.”

Keith tries to look down his body, but his view is obstructed by a blue curtain. Lance squeezes his hand just as Keith feels something _pull_ , deep in his abdomen. It feels odd, but it only lasts a few minutes before he hears the sharp, high-pitched cry of something behind the curtain.

 _His baby_.

Lance gasps, and Keith looks up to see him tearing up. The doctor says something to Lance that Keith can’t quite make out over the ringing in his ears. The ringing stops, though, when the doctor lifts something small and red out to Lance, who lets go of Keith’s hand and takes their baby in his arms.

“Let me see,” slurs Keith, feeling strangely sleepy considering how little work this all took on his part.

“Keith,” Lance whispers, sounding amazed. “It’s-- She’s a _girl_.”

A girl. Their baby girl.

“Evelyn,” Keith mumbles, and tries to beckon Lance closer. “Evie McClain-Kogane. Lance, let me _see_.”

Lance scoots closer, and Keith is almost automatically awestruck at how _small_ the baby -- _Evie,_ he reminds himself -- looks in Lance’s arms. She’s got a blanket around her, but she’s still a little covered in blood and has her eyes shut. She’s also kind of wrinkly, but all Keith can think in this moment is: _perfect_.

Leaning down, Lance carefully lies Evie on his chest, his hands still holding her for support. Shakily, Keith brings his own hand up and places it on her warm back. Up close, Keith can see the wispy black hairs already forming on her head.

And then, something amazing happens -- Evie opens her eyes, and even though they’re not quite focused yet, Keith recognizes them: soft, ocean blue eyes. Lance’s eyes.

“She has your eyes,” Keith whispers, his eyes misting over as he examines their daughter as much as he possibly can.

“And your mullet,” replies Lance, and Keith laughs wetly in response, overcome with so many emotions that he doesn’t know what to do with them all: happiness, excitement, wonder, and, above all, _love_.

Now, Keith has experienced a lot of love in his life. But this -- cradling his newborn daughter in his arms between himself and the love of his life -- well, this definitely takes the cake.

 

* * *

 

_“It was always you falling for me. Now there’s always time calling for me. I’m a light blinking at the end of the road; blink back to let me know.” -Panic! at the Disco, Always_

 

* * *

 

 

_~fin~_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND IT IS FINISHED!!!
> 
> Oh my God, this has been a wild ride... I am SO sorry it took me forever to post! I swear I had everything ready but my computer glitched and half the chapter got deleted, so I went into a bit of a depressed writing slump. I've also been so stressed with the end of the semester coming around and kicking my ass, but season 8 is coming in two days and I somehow managed to re-finish the chapter with the power of renewed Klance energy! A big thank you to those who have stuck around this long, and I hope you enjoyed!! <3
> 
> Also, I'm debating as to whether or not I should write an epilogue for this, which is why I finally marked it as completed. If anyone has any ideas for me or things you might wanna see in a potential epilogue, please leave a comment! Love you guys~

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhh my first VLD fic! I am admittedly nervous about publishing this, but hopefully y'all enjoy! :) Tentative schedule for updates: should be up weekly. Expect about two more chapters, and maybe an epilogue. Please comment, I love hearing feedback!


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